


Your Decisions Paved the Road That Lies in Front of You

by willinplaid



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alaska Fic, Angst, Canon Compliant, Eventual Healing, Fever Dreams, Flashbacks, Gen, Lots of Angst, Post-Felina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willinplaid/pseuds/willinplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse escapes at the end of Felina, but that was only the first step. Jesse ends up on Badger's doorstep because he has nowhere else to go. This leads to Badger and Skinny Pete stepping up to be responsible adults and helping Jesse get out of New Mexico and start a new life. On the long road trip to Alaska, Jesse faces his demons one by one, and learns to heal before he can move on. Turns out second chances involve a lot of work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a self-indulgent fic that's been floating around in my head for a while. It's been months and months since Breaking Bad ended, but I still can't help but worry and wonder about what happened to Jesse Pinkman. So this is sort of my answer to that.

Crashing through that gate at 70 miles per hour was like surfacing from a deep blue pool. Jesse felt like he had been holding his breath for years. He suddenly became aware of all his senses. The roar of the engine in his stolen car got louder and mixed with the sound of his hysterical laughter. The peal of his own voice shocks him, so unused to hearing it of late. He loved the feeling of the thrum in his chest. It made him feel alive.

Jesse kept driving and driving until the lights of Albuquerque dimmed behind him. The only thing left in front of him was the wide desert. He remembered the last time he had been in the desert, but tried to push that out of his mind, at least for now. Jesse pulled off to the side of the road and got out of the car, stretching his cramped legs. The pops and aches of his joints almost send him to the ground, and Jesse sinks to his knees, his laughter turning to something more like shrieks.

The sand underneath him has already lost the warmth of the day, and the stars wheel above his head. Jesse looks up at them in wonder. He hasn’t seen them properly for months, the lights of Jack’s compound always drowning out the sky. He soon exhausts himself, ending with breathless gulps in the freezing night air. After a few moments, Jesse climbs back into the car, and pulls around back towards Albuquerque.

* * *

Badger snorted himself awake, the sickly blue light of his TV illuminating the living room. He looked down at his hand wrapped around the remote, and it takes a moment to realize that some hesitant knocks at his door were the thing that woke him.

Badger shoved his stash of dope underneath a pile of magazines out of habit and wiped cheesy residue from his fingers onto the couch before standing up and making his way over to the door. There haven’t been any subsequent knocks, and Badger wonders if they have left. The clock on his DVD player says it’s well past midnight, and Badger tries to shake the confusion out before pulling the door open.

“Yeah?” He says roughly. Hopefully this isn’t Skinny P showing up drunk on his doorstep again. The person standing on his stoop had been walking away, but jumped and turned around when the door opened. Badger didn’t even recognize him for a few moments, and he looked in confusion at the man on his step. But after looking past the dirty hair and scars, Badger sees a familiar face. Even then, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Jesse?” He asks quietly. “I thought you were in Alaska, man.” He doesn’t know where Jesse has been these past months, but it clearly hasn’t been kicking it in the Arctic Circle.

Jesse doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and when he does, his voice comes out raspy like he had been screaming bloody murder. “Can I crash here? Just for the night. I- uh, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Badger nods, stepping aside to let Jesse into his house. Jesse comes to a halt in the center of his living room, like he hadn’t been here a hundred times before. Like he needs permission or something to sit down. Badger shuts the door and comes to stand in front of Jesse. He is way out of his depth. Badger knows he’s not the smartest guy, but even he can figure out when something is seriously wrong.

“Hey man, you look like shit.” Badger starts, and then mentally kicks himself. Jesse looks down at himself like this had just occurred to him. That wasn’t meant to be so harsh. “Not to say that- I mean. Do you wanna take a shower or something? Or you could just crash on the couch or whatever.”

Jesse rubs his arm. “Uh, a shower would actually be pretty cool.”

Badger leaps into action, thrilled to have something to do. “Awesome. There’s like extra towels in there too. They might not be too clean, but they shouldn’t be too bad. And there’s, like, a razor and some shaving cream if you want to cut it close. I can grab you some clothes. I should have some shit lying around.”

Jesse follows him down the hallway and waits while Badger enters into the depths of his closet. Jesse’s always been smaller than him, and it looks like he’s gotten a lot skinnier in the past couple months. Badger tries to find decent clothes, but settles on a black t-shirt and some flannel pants. He hands them off to Jesse, and he turns into the bathroom. The door clicks shut softly, and Badger hears the shower turn on a few seconds later. He looks at the door in silence for a bit before heading off to the kitchen.

* * *

Jesse stands underneath the spray coming from the showerhead, feeling the hot water scald the dirt and grime from his body. He stays there for a long time, angling his head into the water. It’s the best thing he’s felt in a while. Jesse is sorry when the hot water runs out, and he steps out, shoving the filthy pile of clothes he came in away. He pulls on Badger’s clothes, noticing with slight embarrassment that they hang pretty loose on him.

He steps to the sink, grabbing one of the extra toothbrushes sitting on the side and scrubbing his mouth, rinsing it out a few times. He spots the razor and shaving cream Badger had pointed out. He desperately wants to shave off his beard, but dreads looking at himself in the mirror. A few minutes later, he runs cold water over his face, feeling the smooth ridges of his face. He had looked like a disaster victim with the beard, but Jesse is dismayed to see he doesn’t look much different without it. His eyes look red-rimmed and tired. His attempts to cut his hair didn’t end up too disastrously, but it still didn’t help much. It’s not like he hasn’t seen his reflection this whole time, but every time Todd took him into the clubhouse to wash up, Jesse avoided looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t want to see the scars or healing bruises. Now, it seems, it’s unavoidable.

* * *

Badger is neck deep in the refrigerator when he hears Jesse’s footsteps come into the kitchen. He emerges fairly sheepishly from it with a handful of rotten avocados. He tries to keep the nasty shock off his face, but is pretty sure he isn’t too successful. Where before they were covered by the beard and dirt, the scars on Jesse’s face are now quite obvious, standing out with a smattering of new bruises. Jesse stands half-in, half-out of the doorway, seeming unsure of how to proceed.

Badger tries to cover up his surprise with movement, tossing the rotten food into the trash. “I’ve been trying to find some food or something. All I’ve got is canned soup and some leftover Chinese. Pretty slim pickings, but we could order out. I don’t know if anyplace is open-”

Badger trails off at Jesse’s shrug. “Soup sounds fine. I’m not actually that hungry.”

Badger looks at him skeptically. “Yeah, I’ll warm up some food.” A few minutes later, he sets three old containers of rice and orange chicken on the table. He digs in and watches Jesse eat slowly. Jesse hunches over the food, bringing his head down toward the bowl and his hands. He only finishes off half a bowl before pushing it away.

Even now, Jesse doesn’t look up at Badger, his eyes pointed toward the rest of the kitchen, fingers lightly gripping the table. Badger stops eating and swallows the last bite. Jesse hasn’t taken any initiative this whole time past asking whether he can stay, and Badger doesn’t know whether he needs to ask the obvious.

“Jesse, it’s getting pretty late. You can use my bed if you want. You look like you need a good sleep, and besides, my couch pulls out.” Jesse opened his mouth to protest, but Badger waves aside his words. “Don’t even worry about it, man. My bed’s pretty ripe anyway. You’ll probably be doing me a favor.”

Jesse nods, still not looking Badger in the eye. He stands and makes his way down the hallway to Badger’s bedroom, and Badger watches him go. He has a strange shuffling walk, his hands held close in front of him, almost like he’s relearning to walk after a gunshot wound.

A few minutes, Badger tiptoes down the hall and peeks into his room. Jesse had pulled the comforter to his chin and is curled into a ball. A vein stands out in his forehead as his breath wheezes out from his open mouth. Badger closes the door quietly and walks back down the hall to his living room, where he settles in for the night.

* * *

Jesse sits on the mattress, playing with a loose bit of string on the edge. He twists the edges back and forth between his fingers nervously. The late afternoon light coming in around the edges of the tarp above has faded into the dark of night. He’s playing a waiting game now, seemingly the only game he ever plays anymore.

Jesse only noticed the problem as he waited for the precursor in the tank to finish cooking. He had been imagining building his box, the smooth bevel running along the wood under his fingers. A slight beeping from the tank alerted him that the temperature was rising, and Jesse brought himself back into the moment, decreasing the temperature as much as he can. It must have run a little hot for only a minute or so, and he hoped that it didn’t affect the finished product too much, but everything turned slightly cloudy at the end, although it still retained the blue color.

It wasn’t too noticeable unless you were looking for it, but Jesse knew Todd would check the purity before packaging it up. Jesse had been keeping the purity solidly in the mid-90s for weeks now, which earned him a little reprieve, but he didn’t know how Todd would react to a sudden dip in quality.

His worrying is interrupted by the clank of the grate above opening. Jesse shifts away, his back pressing up against the concrete wall. Todd descends the ladder carrying a bag of sandwiches. He kneels down, taking a seat beside Jesse on the mattress. “Hey, Jesse. I brought down some subs. Figured you’ll be pretty hungry.” He hands off a sandwich to Jesse, smiling calmly.

Jesse takes the sandwich wordlessly and avoids his gaze. He doesn’t know when the other shoe will drop, but knows it’s coming. Todd always seems so calm and pleasant that Jesse can never figure out when he’s angry at all.

The chains leading from his cuffs clink softly as he takes a bite from his sandwich. Todd grins and bites into his sandwich as well. “Sorry about putting you through double duty this week. I know we usually only do one batch a week, but I was talking with Lydia, and she said her buyers in the Czech Republic want to expand their business. Can you believe it? I mean, I had my doubts there for a while on how dedicated you were to this, but lately it’s been a lot better.”

Jesse nods weakly and laid the rest of his sandwich on the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to finish it right now. The purity had stayed in the low 80s for a while after Andrea, because Jesse couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on the cook, but after Kenny had slammed his head into the edge of the cooking vat and he saw stars for the rest of the night, Jesse had pulled the purity back up into the 90s.

Todd eyes him with those dead eyes of his. The worst part of dealing with Todd was that, with Jack and Kenny and the others, Jesse could basically count on them being nasty all the time. But with Todd, he is unpredictable. The strangest things can set him off.

“You know, Jesse, if I were you, I’d eat the food I was given. It’s only polite.” Todd threw out, so casual that anyone else would think it a simple suggestion. Jesse knew better, and more, he knew he was right. He picked the sandwich back up and tore small pieces off to eat. It was all his stomach could handle right now.

“So what do you think?” Todd asked out of the blue. Jesse froze mid-bite. Todd chuckles at his deer-in-headlights look. “About the cook. Your dedication. I have noticed that you’ve been much more involved lately, but they taught me in school to ask what others think. So that’s what I’m doing. Are you dedicated?”

Jesse swallows thickly, and manages a small nod. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything.

Todd nods, seemingly in agreement. “I think so too, Jesse. I really think that you’ve started to really get it, you know? Your place, what you need to do.”

Jesse takes another miniscule bite. He can’t taste any of it.

“I always feel like it’s helpful, when someone’s having a little bit of trouble, to just help them out, you know? Talk it out. I like talking with you, Jesse. So, I just was wondering what was wrong today?” Todd keeps going like he’s just having a casual chat.

Jesse digs his fingernails into the side of his leg. “Nothi- Nothing was wrong.”

Todd looks at him. “Well, I was just checking the purity of today’s batch, and I couldn’t help but notice that it was a little cloudy. Dropped the purity by a couple percent.”

“It was an accident. The tank went a little hot for a couple minutes, that’s all.” Jesse says quickly.

“I thought you said nothing was wrong.” Todd smirks a little, like he caught him out on a little lie.

Jesse looks at Todd desperately. He knows that what he says next is crucial as to whether Todd will punish him or let it go. “I only looked away for a minute. And when I realized my mistake, I didn’t want you to worry.”

Todd’s face doesn’t move at all. Despite his country-boy exterior, he can tell when people are lying. “Jesse, do you think I’m an idiot?”

Jesse shakes his head wildly. His heart is pounding so hard it hurts. “No, of course not.”

“Then don’t treat me like one. Accidents happen, and it was only a two percent drop. But, next time this happens, I expect to hear about it. If I don’t, you won’t like where we end up.” Todd shakes the chains of Jesse’s cuffs in emphasis, and Jesse flinches.

Todd smiles vaguely, and stands up, taking the sandwiches with him. “Since you’re not hungry, I guess you can wait until tomorrow night to eat. I don’t want to waste food. Good night, Jesse.”

Jesse pulls his knees up to his chest and watches Todd climb the ladder, pulling it up and slamming the grate shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse floats back into consciousness. He keeps his eyes closed, still half in a dream. He knows he’s still in the cage, but he’s imagining a soft bed underneath him and a warm blanket. He had the strangest dream last night, but he doesn’t quite want to remember it right now.

A door closes somewhere in the house, and Jesse’s eyes fly open as he sits up suddenly. For a moment, he’s completely disoriented, the room he’s seen countless times before totally alien. Jesse thinks he’s inside the clubhouse, and he racks his brains, trying to remember how he ended up there.

Only after he hears the soft mumble of Badger’s voice from the living room does Jesse realize where he is. He leans back against the pillow and runs his hands over his face, shuddering in relief. He looks around him, the soft morning light filtering through the morning. The light is gray, the sky outside overcast.

Everything that happened yesterday floods back to him, and Jesse looks down at his hands in shock. None of it seems real. Not even Badger’s room seems real. He knows that any second now he’s going to pop back into reality and he’ll be back in the garage. Maybe he can try and stay here for just a little longer before he has to go back.

After a moment, Jesse realizes that he doesn’t have to wait for anyone to get him, and he stands up slowly. His legs are stiff, and everything aches all over. He heads to the bathroom and closes the door.

* * *

 

Badger opens the front door to let in Skinny Pete, who looks like he was dragged from sleep unwillingly. He raises his hands as Badger ushers him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Why the hell did you call me so early, bro? I was passed out, man. I got mad lucky last night. In the lady department.” He added in case Badger didn’t figure it out. “She wasn’t even a hooker. It was awesome.”

Badger didn’t partake in a conversation that usually he would be all too happy to join in. “Skinny, Jesse showed up here last night.”

This at least brings Skinny out of his post-coital reverie. “What? I thought he was, like, in Alaska.”

“Yeah, dude, so did I. He showed up at like midnight last night, all dirty and shit. It was weird, yo. I think something bad happened to him. Like real bad.” Badger lowers his voice, knowing Jesse is sleeping in the other room.

Skinny Pete frowns. “What do you mean, bad? Did he get, like, the clap or something?”

Badger, frustrated, shakes his head. “Not like regular bad. Like, Heisenberg bad.”

Skinny’s mouth gapes open, finally understanding the level of gravity they were dealing with. “Do you think Heisenberg did it to him?”

Badger shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. It looked like it was happening for a while. I mean, Skinny, you have to see him.” Badger trails off, looking helplessly at Skinny Pete. Badger wouldn’t be winning any Nobel prizes or humanitarian awards any time soon, but he could be a pretty good friend when it counted. And right now, he was worried.

Skinny Pete opens his mouth to answer when the soft footsteps of Jesse coming down the hall alerts them. Jesse turns the corner and draws to a halt when he sees Skinny Pete. For a moment, raw panic enters his eyes until Badger holds his hands up.

“Jesse, dude, it’s okay. It’s just Skinny Pete.  I called him over because, I mean, we’re the crew, right?” Badger says, trying to calm Jesse down.

Jesse’s eyes flit between the two of them. He wrings his hands together. “Who else did you call?” He squeaks, his voice panicked.

“Nobody.” Badger tries, looking at Skinny Pete and back at Jesse. “I promise.”

Jesse looks about ready to bolt, his back and legs ramrod straight.

Badger walks forward, but Jesse takes several steps back. Badger is shocked to see that Jesse almost looks afraid of him. This is enough to stop him in his tracks. “Jesse, I would never call somebody on you. We’ve been tight for a really long time, dude. I’m your friend.”

Badger’s words seem to bring Jesse back a little, and he relaxes slightly. Badger tries to put Jesse at ease by smiling. “Sorry I freaked you out, dude. I figured you would want to see Skinny. I should have known his ugly mug would’ve freaked you out.”

Jesse doesn’t smile, but he stops looking like he’s going to take off. Jesse follows Badger back into the kitchen where Skinny Pete is still sitting. His mouth is open, and he looks at Jesse, worried. He’s out of his depth. They both are.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll make us some breakfast? I went out and got some breakfast burritos at the gas station this morning.” Badger says, turning to the bags on the counter.

Jesse nods and sits down, clasping his hands in his lap and barely moving. He doesn’t look at Bager or Skinny Pete, gazing intently at the cracked Formica of the table.

Skinny Pete sits at the other end of the table and looks at Jesse, getting his first real look at him. The light scars on his face stand out against his pale skin, where new or healing bruises pepper his face. He looks 15 pounds lighter, but it’s more than this. There’s a deep tiredness to his face, a gravity that wasn’t there the last time. This wasn’t the same Jesse Pinkman he knew a few months ago. The closest thing that Skinny can compare it to is when his uncle got back from the service empty and distant. He ended up putting a gun in his mouth, but Skinny Pete doesn’t want to think about that.

Badger finishes microwaving the burritos and hands a plate of them to Jesse. Jesse takes them and Badger gets a good look at his wrists. There are deep red bruises there, like from handcuffs. Badger can’t help the look of dismay on his face, and he glances over at Skinny Pete, who looks pale. He saw them too.

Badger takes a seat, and all three of them eat, none of them with particular gusto. Jesse is silent, and Badger and Skinny Pete glance alternately at him and each other, trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, Badger decides it’s time to break the ice. “So, Jesse, it’s totally awesome to see you. It’s been a really long time. I was just wondering, what’s your plan? What do you want to do?”

Jesse looks up at them at last. He looks surprised, like nobody has asked him that question for a very long time, and he himself hasn’t thought about it. “I… I don’t think I can stay here for very long. I need to get out of town.”

“Jesse, you can stay here for however long you need. You look like you could use a break. You can always take off later.” Badger offered. Jesse seems to deflate a little. Even after a full night’s sleep, he looks exhausted.

Skinny butts in hesitantly. “Dude, me and Badger wanna help a homie out, you know? But, it might be cool if you told us what happened.”

Jesse looks at them, his eyes guarded. He knew this was coming. He rubs his eyes and points toward the living room. “Turn on the news. I’m sure they’re talking about it.”

With a look at Jesse, the three of them go into the living room and Badger hunts the remote control out of the couch cushions. He and Skinny sit in the middle of the couch, but Jesse sits down in a chair on the far side of the room, angled away from the television.

Badger turns the TV on, and turns it to the news. The flashing lights of police cars surrounding a compound appear. Some of the footage was taken last night, some of it this morning. Cops, forensic analysts, and reporters were everywhere. There were people carting bags of evidence out of a huge garage on the far side of the compound.

The reporter on camera stood in the middle of the area, speaking to the camera. “We have more information on the developing story of the massacre from last night on the outskirts of Albequerque. Of the seven bodies found at the crime scene, one has been identified as Walter White, the former high school chemistry teacher who was discovered to be Heisenberg, one of the region’s premiere crystal meth manufacturers a few months ago.”

Badger gasps and looks over at Skinny Pete. “We saw him the other day.”

Jesse looks sharply at them. “You saw Miste - _him_? Why?”

Skinny Pete shrugged. “It was weird, yo. He wanted us to point these laser pointers at these rich people. It was so weird. He was looking for you, actually. We thought you were in Alaska.” His voice trails off as Jesse’s jaw clenches. Skinny’s eyes drift back to the TV. “Looks like he found you.”

As the reporter pieced the story together, Badger and Skinny Pete figured it out from their end. By the time they got to the dog run and the subground cage, evidence of a prisoner, Badger kind of felt sick. He turned the television off, and the silence in the room was almost deafening.

Badger and Skinny Pete searched for words. Jesse hugged his knees to his chin and looked at their feet. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He said quietly.

Skinny nodded. “I’ve heard that it’s good for people to talk about stuff like this after something bad happens.”

“I _can’t_.” Jesse said, voice raspy. He was quickly losing his composure.

Badger changed the subject. “Okay, cool. Is there anything you want to do? You should probably take it easy, you know? But, like, if you wanna see a movie or something…”

Jesse was silent for a moment. “Do you guys know where – if Brock is okay? Brock Cantillo?”

Badger and Skinny Pete exchanged a look. Skinny Pete decided to break the news slowly. “Jesse, a couple months ago, Andrea got-”

“I know,” Jesse interrupted. A deep look of grief swept over his face, and he spaced out for a few seconds, remembering something. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “What about Brock? Is he safe at least?”

Skinny Pete shrugged. “I heard he went to live with his grandma.”

Jesse nodded, closing his eyes in relief. “Do you think you could find out for sure? I just want to know he’s okay.”

Skinny nodded. “Sure, Jesse. I’ll make some calls. I’ll make sure it’s all good.”

After that point, neither Badger or Skinny Pete knew quite where to go with the day. Badger suggested they watch some TV, and they turned on some Star Trek reruns. Jesse was silent, looking at the TV, but not really seeming to see it. His eyes were glazed over, and he looked like he was a million miles away. Even Badger couldn’t get into the show. He kept sending glances Skinny’s way, but he just shrugged, face worried.

 Finally, it got late, and Skinny got up from the couch. “I should probably go. I’ll get back to you guys tomorrow. Maybe I’ll bring some pizza or something.”

Jesse trailed them to the door, and Skinny slapped Badger on the back in goodbye. Without considering it, he reached over to hug Jesse. He quickly realized that this was a mistake. Jesse’s eyes widened immediately and he jerked away, adopting a defensive position.

“Don’t touch me!” He said sharply.

Skinny Pete threw his hands up. “Jesus, I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Jesse barely seemed to hear him. As Skinny stepped closer to apologize, Jesse locked up all stiff. He was reacting like a beaten dog. Skinny backed up, and Jesse took a few shuddering breaths, and seemed to snap out of it.

Instead of saying anything, he turned around and ran back to the hall, locking the bathroom door behind him. After a moment, the sound of the sink came on, and then it was all quiet.

“What are we going to do, dude?” Badger asked Skinny Pete, voice strained.

“He’s really fucked up, I don’t-” Skinny began. “He has to get out of Albuquerque before the police catch up. If that shit on the news was real, they’ll be looking for him.”

“Yeah, but Goodman skipped town, and I don’t know anyone else who could get good fake ID’s like he could.” Badger said.

Skinny thought for a moment. “I might know a guy. I’ll check on that tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow morning. Keep it all on the down-low.”

“What do I do, though? I think he has that PSTV stuff or whatever. I don’t know how to deal with something like that.” Badger said.

“I don’t know.” Pete shrugged.

“What did they do to him?” Badger asked quietly. He was scared for Jesse. Skinny Pete didn’t have an answer.

* * *

 

Jesse could hear them coming across the courtyard even with the gas mask on. He held his breath, hoping they were going past the lab, but three pairs of footsteps alerted him to the fact that they had come in.

Todd was gone for a few days, on a business trip with Lydia, but Jesse still had to cook a batch, which meant Kenny and the others were in charge. Kenny had tripped Jesse twice on the walk to the lab, laughing like the sight of Jesse face-planting into the asphalt was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. All morning, he had “forgotten” to unlock the cuffs around Jesse’s wrists, which left it nearly impossible to get any work done. Kenny had eventually unlocked the wrists and left, as Jesse had to finish the batch soon.

Thankfully, they had left him alone all day, but now it seemed they had gotten bored with whatever it was they did in the clubhouse. Kenny, Frankie, and Lester stepped into the lab, drinking and laughing. Jesse snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye, and was dismayed to see they were already quite drunk. It was always worse when they were drunk.

Jesse tried to ignore them, staring straight at the scales in front of him where he was weighing various ingredients. Kenny chugged the last of his beer and came sauntering over, peering at what Jesse was doing. He grabbed the scale out of his hand and waved it in the air, laughing.

“How do you even read this thing with your beady little rat eyes? Maybe we need to get you glasses, huh?” Kenny poked Jesse’s forehead.

Jesse gripped the counter and tried to not react. He knew showing emotion would only provoke them. Sometimes no reaction was enough to provoke them, however.

Lester came into the lab and picked up a bag of product, dropping it on the counter where it split open. Blue crystals spilled everywhere. Jesse couldn’t help the flicker of anger that crossed his face.

Kenny, beady-eyed as ever, caught that. “Ohh, he’s mad now!”

Jesse sucked in a breath. “You’re the ones who wanted me to make that in the first place.” He shot out before he could stop himself.

Kenny nodded. “Yeah, we did. And unless you’re dumber than I thought, you know you’ll keep making it until you’re no longer worth anything and we take you out back and shoot you in the head.”

“At least I’m not as dumb as you look.” Jesse muttered under his breath. Afterwards, he didn’t know what he was thinking, how he could let that come out of his mouth. It was the sleep deprivation, the hunger, the neverending stress of living in this neo-Nazi hellhole. As it was, he realized his mistake immediately after saying it.

Kenny’s face darkened, and he lost all his sadistic cheer. With one swift movement, he grabbed Jesse’s arm and pulled it up behind his back, yanking on his shoulder. Tears of pain sprung to his eyes and he gasped.

“What did you just say to me?” Kenny growled, applying more pressure.

“I’m sorry!” Jesse yelped. He felt like his arm was being pulled out of his socket. Kenny spun him around and slammed his head into the fermenting tank. Stars erupted across his vision.

“What kind of operation do you think we’re running here? Todd may want to pretend to be buddies with you, but I sure as hell don’t. You’re a piece of shit, Pinkman. How this works is you do what we say with no back talk and maybe I won’t dislocate your arm.” Kenny pushed his head back into the tank for good measure and then let him go. Jesse doubled over, coughing and gasping, his breaths coming in wheezes.

Kenny grabbed his hands and cuffed them again, unlocking him from the dog run and propelling him to the door. Jesse tried to keep up, but the chain between his feet was so short it was hard to walk fast. Once they cleared the lab, Kenny shoved Jesse to the ground and kicked him in the ribs. Pretty soon, three pairs of feet joined and Jesse curled into a ball, protecting himself as well as he could.

Jesse thought he felt one of his ribs cracking, and his vision was swimming as he heard Jack’s voice yell out. They stopped kicking him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked, stepping from the clubhouse to where the four of them were. He didn’t sound particularly angry, and looked down at Jesse on the ground with no apparent concern.

Kenny ran his fingers through his hair. “Teaching this piece of shit a little lesson about mouthing off.”

Jack took a slow drag on a cigarette. “That’s fine, but if you break something important, he won’t be able to cook tomorrow. Take it easy, yeah? We’re not keeping him around to be your punching bag, he’s worth a lot of money.”

Kenny shrugged, and dragged Jesse to his feet. Blood was streaming from his nose, and he groaned.

“I’d suggest shutting the hell up once in a while, rat.” Jack said, flicking his cigarette butt in Jesse’s direction. He chuckled and turned back to the clubhouse as Kenny dragged Jesse back to his cage.


	3. Chapter 3

Badger knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door. “Jesse?” He asked. There was no answer. Badger suddenly remembered his razor sitting on the counter, and had an image of Jesse sitting in the bathroom with his wrists slit. He opened the door with some trepidation.

To Badger’s relief, Jesse was sitting in the bathtub, but he hadn’t slit his wrists or killed himself. He was fully clothed, knees pulled up to his chest. His head was down, and Badger couldn’t see his face.

Badger hesitantly sat down right next to the tub. “Jesse? Are you okay?”

Jesse’s shoulders were shaking, and when he lifted his head, tears streamed down his cheeks. He looked at Badger desperately, opening and closing his mouth like he was searching for words, but nothing came out. His face contorted, and he started sobbing again.

Badger reached out a hand to comfort him, but remembering his reaction before, settling for placing his hand on the edge of the tub.

“Yo, remember in 11th grade when Combo’s grandpa died?” Badger offered. Jesse didn’t stop crying, but looked up at him in confusion. “I mean, he got that phone call from his mom right after history class. That obviously sucked, so us and Skinny went out to the bleachers and got high? Remember?”

Jesse nodded, his face miserable. “Well, after his second hit, Combo was like getting all emotional, and it was totally awkward, because none of us knew what to say. And then you stood up, and you said, ‘Well, at least we’re skipping social studies today’. I still remember that. And it wasn’t even funny, but Combo started snorting so hard he couldn’t breathe. After that, it was better.”

Jesse huffed and put his hands over his face, calming down a little. He propped his chin on his knees. “I miss him.”

Badger nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

There was another silence, but not as awful as the first.

“I thought it would be better.” Jesse said finally. He was looking off into the distance. “When I was in- well, when I was back there, I thought that if I could just get out, I’d leave and never look back. Just keep driving and driving.”

Badger slowly placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder in solidarity, and Jesse flinched a little, but didn’t pull away. “But now I’m out, and it’s not any better. I mean, it _is_. It’s so much better, at least I’m not with _them_ , but I thought it would be easy. I thought leaving would be the hard part.”

“You know, it’s only been a day, yo. You gotta give yourself some time, you know?” Badger said wisely.

“What if I’m not really out?” Jesse said next, so quietly Badger almost couldn’t hear him. “I used to space out in the lab. I’d pretend I was somewhere else because I couldn’t stand being there one more second. Sometimes I’d be gone for a really long time. What if that’s what’s happening now?”

Badger was horrified. Jesse sounded resigned to the fact. How could he really think that he was still a prisoner in that compound?

“You’re really here, Jesse. I mean, you can’t imagine how bad my bathroom smells. That’s only something you can experience in reality.”

Jesse huffed and dipped his head, which seemed as close to a laugh as he was going to get. Badger got to his feet and offered his hand.

“Come on, dude. You should probably get some rest. We’ll see what Skinny finds out in the morning.” Badger said. Jesse clambers to his feet and rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I can’t take your bed again. You should take it back, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Badger waved his hand in dismissal. “No way, dude. You deserve to sleep in a bed. If it bothers you that much, I’ll sleep in the bed too. It’s huge anyway.”

Jesse gave him a skeptical look, and Badger shrugged. “Nothing weird, man. You just obviously need a bed and it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be like a sleepover when we were kids.”

After a moment, Jesse nodded, and Badger grinned. “Awesome, yo. We don’t have to hide the porn from my mom anymore at least.”

Badger was amazed at how fast Jesse fell asleep. He slid into the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. Within two minutes, Badger heard the even breathing of sleep.

It must have been hours later when Badger was awoken from sleep by Jesse kicking him in the stomach. Badger opened his eyes blearily, but Jesse was still asleep. He rolled over and started mumbling. “I didn’t mean to,” Jesse said vaguely. “I’m sorry.”

Badger wondered if he should wake him up, and then Jesse started to get more and more agitated, and Badger shook his shoulder lightly. Jesse shot awake immediately with a scream, clapping his hands over his mouth to keep in the sound. He seemed completely disoriented for a few seconds, but when he finally realized where he was, he glanced over at Badger in the bed.

Instead of saying anything, he got out of bed and went to the living room. Badger watched him go.

The next morning, Badger walked into the living room to find Jesse sitting  on the couch looking out the closed blinds. He glanced over at Badger but didn’t say anything.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Badger asked. Jesse looked like he had been sitting there all night. There were deep sunken hollows under his eyes like he hadn’t slept at all. Jesse shrugged and turned back to the window.

A thought occurred to Badger, and he started. “You didn’t go outside, did you?” Jesse looked at him, and then Badger realized how that sounded, and amended his statement. “It’s just, with the cops and everything, it’s probably not too safe for you to be outside.”

“I didn’t go outside.” Jesse said.

Badger was spared from having to say anything by a knock at the door. Badger went over and opened it, letting Skinny Pete in. He was holding McDonald’s bags in his hand.

“I got breakfast, dude.” He said cheerfully, and then shrugged off his jacket, leaning in close to Badger to whisper. “Is he still freaking out?”

Badger shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t sleep at all last night, yo.”

They both looked at each other, worried. This was a great deal more seriousness than they were used to. It was stretching their reserves of maturity.

Skinny Pete walked into the living room feigning cheerfulness. “Hey, buddy! I hope you’re hungry, because I bought, like, 6 Sausage McMuffins.”

Jesse looked away from whatever it was he was keeping an eye on, and took one of the sandwiches. “Thanks.” He offered before eating it in silence.

Skinny took a sandwich and continued. “Well, I looked into Brock for you. I made some calls around. You know Bryan who knows Vanessa who’s the cashier at the 7/11 by Brock’s grandma’s house. Anyway, he said that she said that Brock comes in sometimes with his grandma to buy food and stuff. So, like, he’s all good, brother. No need to worry.”

Jesse closed his eyes in relief. He was completely still for a few moments, and when he opened his eyes, Badger and Skinny thought they saw some tears welling before Jesse wiped them away. “Good. God, that’s… Thank you for checking.” He was almost whispering.

Skinny nodded. “No problem, Jesse. And I did check into that other thing too-”

Badger shook his head, cutting him off. Jesse saw the look.

“What other thing?” He asked.

Skinny stared at Badger, and Badger hit him on the shoulder. “Uh, well, Jesse, we were gonna wait to tell you until you’d rested up a bit, but when you _do_ decide to get out of the ABQ, uhh, it might be a good idea to have a fake ID or something.”

Skinny Pete nodded. “Yeah, man, and since Goodman is MIA, we didn’t really have any other options, but I found this guy. Super on the down low, so it’s totally safe. He moved onto the scene after, uhhh, things dried up like a year back.”

Jesse was shaking his head. “He won’t take me.”

Badger was confused. “What do you mean, he won’t take you?”

“If this is the vacuum guy, I already blew it.” Jesse said.

“What vacuum guy?” Badger asked.

“Don’t you have to call him and then he shows up?”

“No, he has an office in the North Valley. Don’t worry about him not taking you. He takes basically anyone. He’s a pro.” Skinny Pete added. “The only possible hiccup in this perfect plan is the payment issue.”

Jesse’s face fell. “I don’t have any money.”

This threw a wrench in Skinny’s plan. “What, none? I thought you were rolling in the stacks, yo.”

Jesse shook his head. “Uh, not anymore.”

“Shit. That’s gonna be a problem.” Skinny said, looking troubled. “I have, like, 6,000 dollars. He wants at least 25k.”

Skinny looked over at Badger, who shrugged. “Well, I mean, I have the 10 grand, from, uh, you know, Heisenberg. So do you, dude!”

Skinny had the decency to look chagrined. “I, uh, I’m about 4,000 bucks short.”

Badger threw his hands up. “What? It’s been, like, two days, dude. How did you spend 4,000 dollars?”

Skinny turned defensive. “A player’s gotta play, man! Don’t get all up in my grill, you know?”

“Oh, my God.” Badger groaned. The three of them stood there in thought. Jesse could see his chances of getting out of Albuquerque shrinking by the second.

“Isn’t there anywhere you might have hidden some money, Jesse? Like, in your house or like buried in the ground or something?” Badger asked, grasping at straws.

“Oh, or how about those storage lockers?” Skinny offered.

“Yeah! Do you have a storage locker somewhere? We could totally go find one of those.” Badger said.

Jesse shook his head helplessly, until a thought struck him. One time, Todd had told him about how he hid wads of cash in different places just in case the police caught up to them one day and he had to leave in a hurry. The likelihood of there being money in Todd’s car was high.

“Do you have something?” Badger asked.

“Right on! Jesse, my man, thinking up a plan.” Skinny pumped his fist.

“It’s not a good idea to go back there.” Jesse said, looking exhausted. He thought he was done with that part of his life, but he had to go right back.

“Where?” Badger asked.

“His car.” Jesse said. “One of the, um, people who took me.  I ditched it on the way here, scrubbed my prints. The police will be looking for it.”

Badger thought about it. “Yeah, but they don’t know where it is. It could be days, weeks, before they find it. And if this is our only option…”

“You guys don’t have to do this. I was only going to stay here for a night. I can’t drag anyone else into my mess. Not you too.” Jesse said.

There was a long silence. “Jesse, we _want_ to help you. I mean, I thought you had skipped town. This whole time, you were right here? I mean, that makes me feel kinda shitty. I mean, we took all that money from Heisenberg, and now I kinda feel bad using it.” Badger said finally.

“No doubt.” Skinny Pete said. “We owe you big time, brother.”

Jesse finally relented. “Okay.”

“Okay? Sweet! I’ll call the guy and tell him we’ll be there in a few hours.”

Half an hour later, the three of them were in Badger’s car driving downtown. Skinny Pete had brought over some extra clothes because he was closer to Jesse’s size, and Badger had lent Jesse some shoes. Jesse sat in the backseat in case any cops drove by, and Badger followed Jesse’s instructions until they got to the back employee parking lot of a closed laser tag business.

“Laser tag?” Badger questioned as they pulled up to the lone car in the parking lot.

Jesse grabbed a pair of gloves from Badger’s back seat and got out of the car. He tried not to think about what he was doing, just put himself on autopilot like he used to in the lab. Jesse went forward to where he had dumped the keys in the sod barrier in front of the car. He opened the front, looking under the seat and the wheel, in the glove compartment. Nothing. He got into the backseat. There was a duffel bag, and he unzipped it in anticipation, but it was filled with work clothes and gloves.

This left only the trunk. Jesse popped it and dug through it. There were two laundry bags of old clothes. They smelled like Todd, and Jesse shuddered. He wondered if these had been meant for him. Underneath those was a spare tire, and Jesse thought he had reached the extent of what was in the trunk.

Right before he was going to give up and close the trunk, his hand brushed against a small lever on the inside of the trunk. Jesse pulled it, and a small compartment opened. He reached inside, and pulled out two items. One was an envelope full of cash. Jesse rifled through it, deciding it was probably enough to pay the guy. The second was a small black tape with ‘Pinkman – Confession’ written on the top. Jesse stared at it. There was no good reason why Todd should still have this with him. It was, in fact, enough evidence to put him away for life. The only thing Jesse could think of was that it was some kind of, trophy. His stomach roiled, and he was about to drop the tape back in the car and leave, but then reconsidered.

He walked a few feet from the car and dropped the tape on the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. He imagined it was Todd’s head. He looked down at all the scattered pieces, and picked them up.

Jesse climbed back in to the car, and Badger and Skinny Pete twisted around to look at him. “Did you find it? What did you drop on the ground?” Badger asked.

Jesse held up the envelope. “Never mind. I found it. Let’s go.”

Badger started the car and drove off. Every three blocks, Jesse opened the window, dropping a small piece of mangled tape into the street. It should be destroyed and scattered. Nobody would ever be able to piece it together.

Badger kept checking an address. They finally pulled up to a small house. It was completely trashed, broken windows and spare tires balding in the yard out front. Skinny Pete unbuckled his seat belt, leaning to get out of the car.

“I’ll go in and tell the guy we’re here. Make sure everything is straight.” He said, getting out.

Badger and Jesse watched Skinny go up and knock on the door. When nobody answered after a few seconds, he opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. They waited for a few minutes, and Skinny came out again, waving them inside.

Badger and Jesse walked inside, past the trashed front entrance, and into a back room that was actually clean, retrofitted into a makeshift shop. There were retractable cases displaying various handguns and heavy-duty machine guns as well as a screen on the other side of the room with a camera standing in front of it. A middle-aged man with a full beard stood in the center of the room, arms folded.

“This here’s the guy. His name’s Lawson.” Skinny said.

“Payment up front.” Lawson said, cutting right to the quick. “Who’s the customer?”

Jesse stepped out from behind Badger, and Lawson’s face changed immediately. Jesse could tell that he recognized him. An icy flush of panic started in his gut, and Jesse prepared to bolt.

Before he could, Lawson held up a hand. “Hey, hold up there. I’m not going to turn you in or anything. You and your friends have been all over the news, is all.”

_Your friends_. Jesse didn’t say anything, and Lawson shrugged. “So Peter here told me you need an ID. You want the deluxe package, too?” He gestured to the wall where the arrays of guns were waiting for customers.

Jesse looked at them, and shook his head. He hoped he would never need to hold another gun in his life.

Lawson nodded. “Suit yourself. I’m going to need to take your picture for the ID.”

Jesse shuffled over and stood in front of the screen. Lawson set up the camera, and then looked up at his disheveled, sleep-deprived face. “Oh boy. I guess this is what Photoshop was invented for, yeah? Hold still.”

Jesse stood against the screen while Lawson set up the picture. Badger and Skinny Pete were staring at him, and Jesse tried to hold still and look straight ahead. All the focused attention was giving him a headache, and he felt that low-key panic trying to push its way forward again. He pushed it down.

Lawson took the picture and started working on the computer. Skinny Pete had become entranced by the gun display on the side of the room. Jesse didn’t think Skinny had ever touched a gun in his life, but he had the same interest as a small boy.

After an incredibly long waiting period, Lawson finally finished printing his new ID. He handed it off to Jesse with little fanfare, counting the cash they had given him to make sure it was the right amount.

“Well, good luck, I guess.” Lawson said.

Jesse, Badger, and Skinny Pete left the ruined house, piling back into Badger’s car. As they drove back to Badger’s house, Jesse watched the sun set over the houses they were passing.

Skinny Pete turned around to talk to Jesse. “Well, now that you have an ID and a little bit of money, we might want to get you of town soon, dude.”

Jesse broke from his reverie and nodded. “Tomorrow? I just have something I have to do first.”

* * *

 

Todd’s singing ringtone went off and he stepped outside of the garage. Jesse watched out of the corner of his eye, and kept filling pans with the crystal. It was a fairly long conversation, and when Todd came back, he had that creepy, pleased look on his face he got whenever he talked to Lydia.

Todd walked over and glanced in the pans. He sat down at a stool and began weighing the completed bags they had already filled. “Lydia is coming to the compound tomorrow.” He remarked casually, like everything he said. “She’s bringing one of the investors from the Czech Republic with her. She said they’ve been asking to see our operation down here. Lydia sounded real worried about it, but I think we’ll be fine. I mean, they sure seem to like the product itself.”

Jesse nodded for the sake of offering a response. He wondered if ‘seeing the operation’ included him. He knew the few times Lydia had already come to the compound, she had avoided seeing him as much as possible, but maybe the investors would be less squeamish. He entertained briefly the fantasy of the investors being so disgusted that their product was being made by a prisoner that they shot Jack’s crew right there and let him go. Maybe even shot him as well. He wouldn’t mind. However, that’s all it was, a fantasy.

Todd was still talking, and Jesse forced himself to tune back in. “So Lydia was saying we should make sure we get the lab extra clean, so we can impress the investors when they come tomorrow. And I know you’ve been working really hard lately, but I know if we just push a little more tonight and get the lab spotless, we’ll really impress her. That sound good to you?”

He was looking hopefully at Jesse, and Jesse had to physically restrain his urge to shiver in revulsion. It was at times like this that Jesse wondered what exactly Todd wanted from Jesse. He had to know that Jesse was afraid of and hated him in equal measure, but it was almost like he wanted to be friends with Jesse. As if offering these small conciliatory gestures would erase the fact that he had Jesse chained up and forced to do whatever he wanted.

“Okay.” He said instead.

For the next two hours, Todd and Jesse scrubbed the lab spotless. Since it was sitting in a barely air-conditioned garage in the middle of New Mexico, it had never been very clean, but now it started to shape up. Todd had to climb up and get all the nooks and crannies that Jesse couldn’t reach because of the dog run. Jesse was scrubbing the vat out and he started to float again. It was dangerous to do that when Todd was in the lab, but Jesse couldn’t help it. This was almost like the long hours he and Mr. White would spend cleaning out the superlab back when they were producing hundreds of pounds of product a week. Jesse shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He tried not to think about Mr. White as much as he could.

They finally finished when the sun had gone over the horizon and the chill had begun to spread over the desert again. Todd looked pleased with the finished product, and he talked happily about how impressed Lydia was going to be with the lab while he unlocked Jesse from the dog run and handcuffed him again.

They were halfway across the courtyard when Todd seemed to take in Jesse’s dirty appearance. “You know, we should clean you up a bit. For Lydia.” He said thoughtfully, almost to himself.

He pulled Jesse instead in the direction of the clubhouse, and Jesse could see the lights on inside, and didn’t want to deal with Kenny and the rest of them. He dragged his feet a little, but Todd yanked on his arm and brought him in.

Jesse braced himself, but thankfully everyone was sitting in front of the television watching football and they didn’t even notice the two of them come in. Todd maneuvered Jesse over to the bathroom and opened the door.

 “Don’t move.” Todd warned and disappeared into the bathroom. Jesse stood against the wall and watched Kenny and Lester argue over who was going to win the game. The argument started to get heated, and Frankie started jeering at them to shut up and watch the game. What disturbed Jesse the most was that they almost seemed normal. It seemed that when they weren’t shooting DEA agents or terrorizing him, they fought over football like everyone else. He shivered, and was almost glad when Todd reappeared at his arm and steered him into the bathroom.

There was a spare change of clothes sitting on the sink, and Todd unlocked the shackles from Jesse’s hands and feet, setting them down on the counter. “Okay, Jesse. You have ten minutes to take a shower and then I’m coming back in. I took everything out of here that you might try and do something stupid with, so don’t even bother looking.” Todd gave him a warning look and then walked out, closing the door behind him.

Jesse offered a halfhearted look in the drawers and the tiny window, but he knew Todd wouldn’t have missed anything. After the paperclip, Todd had been extra careful about what he let Jesse handle. After he took a shower, he pulled on the spare set of clothes and Todd came back in, reshackling him and leading him back outside.

Jesse let himself be led, but started when they moved back toward the garage rather than the cage. “Uh, Todd…” He started nervously.

“There’s just one more thing. It won’t take long, I promise.” Todd said.

Todd sat Jesse down in a chair in the garage and he walked way to the back, rummaging around for a moment. Jesse twisted around to see what he was doing, but it was too dark. Todd finally came back holding a straight razor and a length of rope.

Jesse started, but Todd grabbed Jesse’s arms firmly, as if to calm a panicking animal. “Relax, Jesse.” He unlocked the handcuffs, but before Jesse could do anything pulled his hands behind his back and tied them with the rope. “I’m sorry I have to do that, but you haven’t really been very trustworthy in the past, have you?” He laughed like it was a little joke between them.

Jesse was trying to control his rising panic at this point. He pulled against the rope. “Todd, I haven’t done anything! Please, I-” Jesse pleaded.

Todd looked at him with his head tilted, like Jesse was doing something confusing. “Jesse, didn’t I tell you to relax? I’m just giving you a shave.”

Jesse clamped his mouth shut, and shuddered in relief. Todd filled a bowl with water and spread shaving cream on Jesse’s face. He pulled the razor over the first patch and dipped it in the bowl. He looked right at Jesse. “Jeez, you sure are skittish. You’re like Lydia when, well, kinda all the time, I guess.” He laughed.

Jesse tried to stay as still as possible. Although Todd said he wasn’t going to hurt him, there was just something about a sociopath holding a straight razor to his throat that put him on edge. Call him crazy.

“Speaking of Lydia,” Todd continued. “Tomorrow, when she shows up with the investor, I really want you to be on your best behavior. Impressing Lydia is really important. Can you do that for me?”

The razor stilled at the sensitive part of Jesse’s throat, and he didn’t even dare to nod his head. “Yeah, I can do that.”

The razor moved again. “Good. Just remember, I’m counting on you. Everything has to go perfect.” Todd’s voice had taken on the tone of a religious zealot. _Perfection or else_ was the implication in his tone.

He finished shaving and dried Jesse’s face. He went to dump the old water and then came back. “Just do whatever I tell you to do tomorrow, and you’ll be fine. I know sometimes you like to try stupid things even though you know they’ll only get you in trouble. I really don’t get it, Jesse.”

Todd shook his head. “You aren’t going to try anything like that tomorrow, are you?” His look was one into which anger could quickly spring.

Jesse shook his head. “No. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Todd nodded at that. “Good. I just want you to be perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry about the delay, guys! This chapter is a little bit longer to make up for that. Also, I promise it's going to get a little bit less depressing at some point in the near future. I promise! The road leading out of Albuquerque is getting closer and closer. Alaska, here they come!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, okay, guys, I am so so so sorry about how long it's taken me to update this. I promise I have not abandoned this story, real life happened and it happened fast. Now I'm back on track, and I promise you won't have to wait more than a couple days between updates.  
> Anyway, Jesse's mom doesn't have an official name, so I had to make one up. Also, the road trip that has been promised for so long is finally happening in the next chapter. If you've stuck with me thus far, thank you for sticking around. Next chapter will be posted in a couple days.

School is being let out as Badger took a turn down a few side streets, and kids with huge backpacks run down the street talking and chasing each other, thrilled to be out of school for the weekend. Badger pulled up to a small house on the corner. The house is small but well-kept, the grass trimmed and shutters painted a sky blue. As they wait, Skinny Pete scratches the back of his head.

“Yo, do you, like, think this is such a good idea, bro?” He asked Jesse in the back seat, who was silently watching the house. “The fuzz could still be out looking for you, and, like, I think this kid’s grandma is a total hardass.”

Jesse looked over at Skinny. “I’m never coming back to Albuquerque.” He said, and by saying the words feeling the truth of them. “This is something I have to do.”

Skinny Pete didn’t have a rebuttal to that, and the sight of Brock walking around the corner digging his keys out of his backpack sent a rush through Jesse. He froze with his hand on the door handle, suddenly not knowing if he could go through with this. He remembered being in the car across the street from Andrea’s house, watching her head rock back as she got shot and he unable to do anything about it. A nervous flush crossed his skin, and Jesse shook his head, forcing himself to get out of the car before he could sink too far into that memory.

Brock was halfway up the front walk when Jesse made it across the street. His voice stuck in his throat and he stood on the sidewalk. He didn’t know whether Brock would want to see him, whether he would hate him. Jesse was frozen until Brock glanced back and saw Jesse standing there.

“Jesse,” He said, sounding surprised.

Jesse was broken from his paralysis. “Hey, Brock.” He said, voice wavering. He ran a hand over his face, suddenly self-conscious about the scars and bruises. He hoped he didn’t look too scary.

Brock walked down the steps slowly, drawing to a halt a few feet from him. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Jesse with wide eyes. Brock had always been taciturn, and Jesse knew he would have to fill the gap in the conversation, even though he wasn’t used to it.

“You’re, uh, looking good. Happy, I mean.” Jesse said awkwardly, seeing it was true. Brock was holding a large watercolor from school in his hand, and he looked well-fed and content. “Living with your grandma is doing you some good.”

Brock tilted his head, still saying nothing. Jesse scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I, uh, I know I haven’t been around for a while, and I know you might be mad at me, but I just wanted to make sure you were happy, and to, um, say I was sorry.”

“Why?” Brock asked simply, and Jesse felt tears pricking his eyes, seeing Andrea fall off her front stoop over and over again in a loop.

Jesse knelt down, and his voice came out gruff from holding back tears. “I’m sure you miss your mom.” He said, and then kicked himself mentally for bringing up Brock’s dead mother.

But, Brock didn’t start crying or yell and run into the house. His brows creased and he looked sad, but Jesse didn’t know if he was old enough yet for the full weight of his loss to have reached him yet. “I miss when you took me and Mom to Taco Cabeza, and you showed me that magic.” Brock said seriously.

A sad smile flickered on Jesse’s lips at the memory, and he nodded. “Yeah, I miss that too. Are you going to grow up and be a magician now?”

Brock shook his head. “No, magic isn’t real.”

Jesse nodded. “You’re a smart kid, Brock.”

“I know.” Brock said. “Are you coming for supper?”

He sounded so hopeful that it broke Jesse’s heart. He shook his head. “No, I, I can’t, Brock. I have to go away for a while.”

“Where?” Brock asked, sounding let down. When Jesse thought about his future, the only thing he saw was a black space. He shook his head.

“Somewhere far away from here.”

“Oh.” Brock bit his lip in thought. “So I won’t see you anymore?”

Jesse shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so, Brock. I have to say goodbye. I’m really going to miss you.”

Brock looked at Jesse for a moment before running forward and hugging him tight. Jesse startled but then cautiously put his arms around Brock. This was the first touch of kindness he had received in months.  “I don’t want you to go.” Brock said into Jesse’s shirt.

Jesse ruffled Brock’s hair and pulled away. “I wish I didn’t have to.” He stood up, ready to go, but hesitated.

“Brock, when you get older and remember all this, I just want you to know…” He hesitated, not sure exactly how he wanted Brock to remember him. He was sure Brock hadn’t been told the whole story behind Andrea’s death yet. He didn’t know whether he deserved fond memories or bitter ones. “Just know that I tried to keep you safe, and I’m sorry that all of this was my fault. Bye, Brock. You’re gonna grow up smart, and you’ll go places. I just know it.”

Brock watched him in silence as he walked back to the car. Jesse got in and Badger started up the engine, pulling out. Brock raised a hand and waved to him as they drove away, and Jesse waved back, feeling one weight lift from his heart and another settle in its place.

* * *

 

It was an off-day, and Jesse was left alone in the cage. This was both a blessing and a curse, because while he was spared from Todd’s inconsistent, clumsy tries towards friendship or cruelty, depending on which mood he was in that day, and the jabs and taunts from the rest of Jack’s gang, the temperature in the cage fluctuated wildly between freezing cold at night and unbearably hot during the middle of the day.

Currently, Jesse wasn’t really fully cognizant of any of that. For the past couple days, he had felt a hacking cough sitting deep in his lungs that had only gotten worse with every day that passed. Jesse didn’t say anything about it, because the chances of sympathy were next to nil, but as each day came on, it got harder and harder to hide.

Yesterday, Jesse’s coughing fits had gotten so bad that Todd had pushed him to the end of the dog run and told him to wait there while he finished the batch so Jesse didn’t contaminate anything. The resulting batch resulted in a marked decrease in quality, and Jesse dimly wondered if he would be punished for it.

Last night was the worst night so far, and Jesse had tossed and turned on the dirty mattress, tossing off his ragged blanket and pulling it back on at least five times. It was now around midday, and although the temperature in the cage was rising, Jesse was shivering and cold, clammy with fever, huddled under the blanket. He stared at the wall and hacked out a wet cough miserably. He felt shaky and inconsistent, his presence of mind wavering in and out with the fever.

That morning, when Todd had dropped down his meager breakfast, Jesse had barely enough strength to grab the food out of the bucket and make it back to the mattress. Todd had watched him for a few minutes before throwing the tarp over again and leaving. Jesse had tried to eat the unbuttered slices of stale bread he had been given, but he only managed a few bites before collapsing back on the mattress.

Things were a little foggy, and Jesse sort of felt like he was floating outside of his body when footsteps approached and the tarp was thrown off the grate above. He coughed miserably and curled up into himself as voices echoed above him. He didn’t even have enough strength to turn his head.

“See, this is what I’m talking about, Uncle Jack. He’s been coughing for days now, and he didn’t even eat anything.” Todd’s voice floated around Jesse’s head.

There was a pause before Jack’s voice answered. “I still don’t see how this is a problem of mine, Toddy. I don’t give a shit about his wellbeing. He could hack up a lung, but as long as he can still cook, that’s fine with me.”

Todd answered, actually managing to sound worried. He could put on a pretense of human emotion when it suited him. “See, that’s the thing. He can’t cook like this. I had to finish the batch yesterday myself.”

Jack grunted out a sound of disbelief. “If he can stand, he can cook. Hey, rat! Stand up.”

Jesse shivered harder, but couldn’t have sat up even if he’d tried. Their words were reaching him through a heavy fog.

“I told you.” Todd sounded petulant. He didn’t want his toy to be too injured.

“He could still be faking it. Trying for sympathy or some shit.” Jack drawled, still maddeningly unconcerned.

The worst bout of coughing yet wracked through Jesse, and he spit a mess of phlegm onto the ground beside him, groaning. His lungs were full and it was hard to breathe.

“He’s not faking it, Uncle Jack.” Todd said. “It’s probably damp and cold down there.”

There was a long pause and then a sigh. “Fine. I guess I should _protect my investments_.” He said, sounding sarcastic. “Get him up. You can keep him in your room. He’s not stinking up the rest of my clubhouse.”

The lock on the grate clicked open and the ladder landed on the ground. Todd descended and knelt down beside him. “Come on, Jesse. You’re sick. I’ll make you better.”

Jesse felt a hysterical impulse to laugh, but could only manage another weak cough. Todd grabbed his arms and manhandled him into a standing position. Jesse leaned heavily on Todd and his head spun with the sudden movement. He was barely staying upright.

Todd pushed him up the ladder, and Jesse moved his limbs automatically, almost losing his grip a few times. Once they were topside, Todd half-walked, half-dragged Jesse toward the clubhouse, Jesse’s feet stumbling and scraping behind him.

By the time they made it inside and down the hall to Todd’s room, Jesse was more unconscious than awake. Todd let him fall on top of the bed, and the surprisingly soft surface was enough to momentarily bring Jesse out of his fog.

Todd rolled him over and leaned down to unlock all of the chains around his ankles, wrists, and belly. Jesse flopped his head to the side, and thought vaguely that if he wasn’t so sick, this would be a good time to escape. There was a loaded gun sitting right next to his head on the side table, and Jesse imagined grabbing it and shooting himself in the head before Todd could do anything. It was a comforting thought. He could feel Todd moving around the room, and Jesse started to slowly black out, imagining that this is how it would feel to die, descending into a quiet, comforting black.

For the next two days, Jesse was delirious more than not, hovering in a strange middle ground between consciousness and sleep. There was a fog surrounding his mind that was only interrupted by the sharp pain in his chest and Todd’s awkward ministrations. During this period, Jesse wouldn’t have been able to remember where he was or even what his name was. He remembered vaguely shouting expletives at a vague, hovering figure in front of him, but he didn’t have any broken ribs, so maybe it was just a hallucination.

At long last, Jesse emerged from his delirium to a cloudy morning. He opened his eyes and marveled at the fact that he was clear-headed for the first time in days. His skin was dry and it seemed his fever had broken and passed.

Jesse tried to sit up, but the soft clink of metal alerted him to the fact that he was cuffed to the bed, hands stretched above his head and feet held down. Jesse let his head fall back onto the pillow in defeat, floating in post-fever blankness.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and examined the room around him. The room was small and cluttered with dirty clothes thrown across every surface. There were a few movies on the shelf across the room that Jesse couldn’t make out, but the walls were blank. Todd’s room was remarkably devoid of character, much like Todd himself.

Jesse looked over at the side table and was startled to see a Mason jar holding a tarantula. Jesse watched the tarantula reach its legs up towards the top of the jar, unable to escape its tiny prison. Jesse felt tired and sad, wondering if Todd had left that there on purpose for him to see. He wouldn’t put it past him to use that little sign as some sick reminder for Jesse, not that he needed one. The cuffs pulled tight around his wrists were enough of a reminder.

After a while, the door opened and Jesse was surprised to see Jack walk into the room instead of Todd. He was dragging on his everpresent cigarette and he leaned against the wall, giving Jesse an undecipherable look.

Jesse felt uncomfortable under his gaze. He was never quite sure how to act around Jack, what strategy would keep him from getting more scars.

“You’re awake.” Jack noted drily. “Does this mean you’re finished yelling and calling me a slimy bastard?”

So it hadn’t been a hallucination. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to lie.” Jesse croaked. He was too exhausted to pretend he didn’t loathe Jack and the rest of them.

There was a pause, and then Jack laughed. He always seemed to find it funny when Jesse would mouth off, as long as he didn’t go too far. “You’re a piece of shit, Pinkman.” Jack said, but he didn’t sound angry. Jesse counted that as a victory, however small.

“Now that you’re better, we can get you back to work in a couple days.” Jack noted, stubbing out his cigarette and pulling a fresh one out of his pocket.

Jesse nodded numbly. He knew that his break would be a short one. He shifted uncomfortably, his arms and legs aching from being held in one position for so long.

Jack was still looking at him. “You want a smoke?” He asked unexpectedly. Jesse looked at him warily, expecting the burning end of the smoke to be stubbed out on his skin. It had happened before.

Jack came closer and he seemed to sense why Jesse was eyeing the cigarette nervously. He smirked but instead held it out so Jesse could take a drag. Jesse breathed in deeply, feeling the smoke enter his lungs. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the taste. He hadn’t been allowed to smoke this entire time, and it was one of the many bad habits he missed.

“How is it you remember all the damn instructions and get the cook right every time?” Jack asked. “I watched the cook once but the details just flew from my head, and you’re not exactly a brainiac.”

He poked Jesse’s forehead and Jesse jerked away in annoyance. “I don’t know. I’ve done it enough times, it just sticks in my head.”

“Todd’s done it enough times, but that boy can’t seem to get any better at it. I guess that’s why you’re still around.” Jack said, shaking his head. Jesse looked at him. If he had been feeling braver, he might have pointed out that it was kind of redundant to keep pointing out the fact that he was only alive because he was useful. Like he didn’t know that already.

“Yeah, well, Todd’s not exactly what I’d call a brainiac, either.” Jesse said, baring his teeth in what in another situation would be called a grin, looking feral. In his situation, survival entailed hiding his hatred from his captors, but that was a hard pretense to keep up.

Jack raised an eyebrow, and Jesse wondered if he had gone too far. His gaze wandered to the tarantula in the jar. “Todd’s awful fond of you, for some fucking reason. I keep trying to convince him to drop you, but he won’t listen. All for uptight pussy. That woman won’t ever look at him twice.” Jack shook his head and sighed, like he was the only reasonable one around here.

Jesse tried to get more comfortable, his chains clinking against the bedframe. Jack flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, seeming bored of this conversation.

“You’ll be back at cooking soon, so you’d best get better soon.” Jack threw over his shoulder before leaving and shutting the door.

Jesse leaned back, listlessly watching the clouds scud across the sky outside, enjoying this small piece of comfort while he still could.

* * *

 

They were almost back to Badger’s house when they passed the turn-off for his parent’s house, and Jesse had a sudden urge.

“Hey, uh, turn here.” He said. Badger didn’t look like he thought it was a good idea, but he did it anyway. Both he and Skinny Pete had sobered up after the sight of Jesse saying goodbye to Brock. The gravity of the situation was slowly sinking in and neither of them were prepared to deal with it.

Badger knew where to go, having biken and driven to Jesse’s house in high school more times than he could count. Jesse watched the streets pass by, remembering being a kid and biking up and down this street, teepeeing that house on Halloween one year, the backyard where he had his first kiss. He wondered if he should feel nostalgic or something, but he only felt tired. Most complex emotions beyond fear and sadness had been wrung out of him in the past couple months. He was broken now.

Badger parked in front of Jesse’s old house, and the three of them watched it in silence.

“Are you going in, dude?” Badger asked hesitantly.

Jesse’s original urge was to go in, but now he realized he had nothing to say to them, and he shook his head.

Jesse was prepared to leave when Mrs. Pinkman came out of the house carrying the trash to the curb. Jesse watched her in silence. Right before she got to the curb, she glanced up at the car across the road, and before Jesse could duck down, she had seen him. She shrieked, clapping a hand over her mouth and dropping the bags on the ground.

“Jesse!” His mother screamed and he was paralyzed, could only sit there half in shock as she ran across the road, pulling the door open and pulling him out of the car, wrapping her arms around him, hysterical and sobbing. Jesse realized they were making a scene, but couldn’t seem to move. He didn’t know whether he was getting any comfort from this, he was cold.

His mother’s shouting had called his father and brother out of the house, and Jesse watched Adam and Jake walk across the street toward him in mute horror. His mother was hysterical, but his father just looked drawn and pale. He didn’t look particularly relieved to see his eldest son. Jake just looked confused. He had gotten taller since the last time Jesse had seen him. He was almost as tall as him.

His mother drew him back and looked at him, tears falling down her face. “The police came today, they said you were dead, they said you killed someone, they said –” She looked at the scars and evidence of abuse on his face and arms and started a fresh round of tears. Jesse could only stare.

“Where have you been all this time?” Adam asked him, his tone fairly accusatory, like he had missed curfew when he was a teenager or something. Jesse was shrinking up on himself, bringing his shoulders down and wrapping his arms around himself. This all seemed like a terrible mistake.

Jesse was silent, looking at his family. He had never felt so separate from them, standing in the suburbian remains of his childhood. He didn’t belong here anymore, if he belonged anywhere.

His father almost seemed to want his mother to get away from him, pulling on her arm a little. “Sharon, we should really call the police.”

That was enough to jerk Jesse out of his daze. “No,” He barked out. His family jumped a little. He realized he sounded hard, half-feral. He was sure he looked it.

Adam looked at him with a kind of simpering condescension, like he knew better than Jesse did and he should just acquiesce. The look reminded him of Mr. White, and Jesse almost snarled out of anger. “They can help you, Jesse. We’ve heard about what you’ve done, but the right thing to do is to turn yourself in. Make things right, son.”

“I haven’t been your son since you cut me out.” Jesse barked out, his sudden blinding anger surprising even him. This was the most aggressive he had gotten in a while.

Adam blinked, like he was taken aback, and he was so incredibly boring and suburban that Jesse laughed, a scratchy, hysterical noise that sounded more like a cry for help.

“Don’t you even care?” He threw out. He hiked up his sleeves to reveal the deep bruises, unmistakeably from longterm restraints and abuse. His father and mother looked away, as if he were something shameful. Jake was shocked, his mouth hanging open. “Look what they did to me, Dad. Mom. They hurt me.” His voice broke on the last word, and he could feel tears threatening to spill. He rubbed angrily at his eyes to keep them in.

“Of course we care, honey.” His mother said, although her voice wavered and she was shrinking away from him, moving back to join her husband.

“That’s why you need to turn yourself in. They know what’s best. They’ll help you. Come inside with us and we’ll wait for them with you.” Adam said, but he was angling his body away from Jesse. He kept looking around at the houses around them, like he was afraid what the neighbors would think of their junkie, criminal son showing up outside their house. Jesse wondered what kind of pacifying explanation he would give them next time he saw them.

Jesse shook his head, resigned to the fact that his parents wanted him locked away, that he was their shameful secret. “They’ll lock me up for life. They might execute me. I’m not going back to being locked up. I can’t.”

His parents had their arms around each other, saying nothing. His father radiated disapproval and condescension, his mother looked like she would much rather put this all behind her.

Adam pulled his wife back towards the house. “If you’re smart, you’ll come back with us so we can call the police together, Jesse. Come on, Jake.” They turned around and walked back to the house. Only his mother looked back. They looked small.

“You’ll never see me again!” Jesse screamed after them, vindictive and desperate. Neither of them came back for him.

Only Jake was still there, looking at Jesse with shock and actual sadness. “They told me you were dead.” He said, not sure how to act around his brother.

Jesse ran his hands over his face, a desperate noise in his throat. “I might as well be.”

“I’ll miss you.” Jake offered, and Jesse looked at him in surprise. He wondered what Jake thought of him, his flighty, criminal older brother.

“Maybe you’ll all be better off without me.” Jesse said, his voice scratchy. He wasn’t used to talking to much. “Just do me one favor, Jake.”

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Just… Don’t end up like me.” Without another word, he got back into the car. Badger pulled out, both him and Skinny Pete looking at him in worry in the rearview mirror. Jesse leaned against the car door and refused to look back, leaving his childhood behind him, the first piece of his past he had to shed.

The sun was setting and Badger looked antsy. “We should leave really soon, Jesse. Your folks might call the cops or something.”

Skinny Pete was nodding. “Yeah, let’s go first thing tomorrow morning. Like, as soon as the sun comes up.”

Jesse nodded, closing his eyes in exhaustion. There was nothing he wanted more was to put Albuquerque in his rearview mirror. He wanted to leave and never return.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning dawned bright, beautiful, and clear. Skinny Pete had gone home for the night, promising to buy supplies for the road, which knowing him, were likely to be snacks and beer. He showed up early in the morning before the sun rose, and Jesse only heard him coming because he tripped on the scrubby bushes out front.

Jesse hadn't been able to sleep, so he was there to let Skinny Pete in. After the first night, when he had fallen into a stupor that lasted all night, his nights were frequently interrupted by nightmares and only time would tell whether they were permanent. He’d only slept a few hours each night, and the sleep deprivation was leaving darker circles under his eyes than already existed.

Jesse opened the door and Skinny came swaggering in, holding a fist out to bump which Jesse reciprocated after a confused pause. The previously easy gesture of friendship now felt awkward and stilted, but Skinny didn’t comment.

“Yo, is Badger still sleeping?” He asked, thumbing toward the back of the house where Badger’s bedroom was. Jesse nodded and Skinny turned around, raising his voice. “Damn, brother needs to get into the _zone_! The road trip zone!”

Skinny slammed the door open and ripped the blankets off of Badger, who was fast asleep, his head almost lolling off the bed. Badger jerked awake in annoyance and started yelling at Skinny, who just pulled on his arm to get him out of bed.

Badger rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned. “The sun’s not even up yet. I’m pretty sure it’s, like, against the Geneva Convention or something to wake someone up this early.”

Skinny scoffed. “It is not, bro.”

Badger tripped his way into fairly clean pants. “Yeah, it’s in the Constitution or some shit, dude.”

Skinny was suspicious. “You’ve never even read the Constitution, I bet.”

Badger rolled his eyes and the two of them walked down the hallway to the kitchen, bypassing the silent Jesse who followed in their wake. “Uh, yeah I have. We learned about it in civics.”

“You never went to civics. We were always out back by the bleachers getting high. Fuck off, Badger.” Skinny Pete and Badger continued to argue about the finer points of the Constitution which neither of them had read while they fought over the last of the orange juice Badger had in his fridge.

They had almost completely forgotten about Jesse, who was perched on a stool watching them. It almost felt like normal, like every other time they had ever hung out together. In the old days, Jesse would have joined in the conversation, frequently managing to win the argument by pulling some random fact out of thin air that he had learned from the History Channel or from actually paying attention in class. Now, he felt he had nothing to contribute, so he just watched them screwing around.

Eventually, after Skinny had raided Badger’s fridge and Badger had discovered a pile of rotten potatoes under the sink, they finally saw the sun’s first rays coming in through the window and realized they had to get going.

Skinny Pete thumbed toward the door. “I’ll make room in the car. Do you have anything?” This was directed at Jesse, who shook his head. This felt strange to him, the idea that he had no material possessions at all to bring with him, not even clothes of his own.

Skinny left and Badger was shoving various possessions into a battered duffel bag of his, plopping it down on the coffee table to close it. He shoved aside the various dirty plates and old magazines to pull out his weed stash, which he shoved into the side. Halfway through closing the bag, he glanced over at Jesse and suddenly looked guilty about the weed.

“Um, sorry about the dope, Jesse. Like, I don’t know where you are on the whole sober spectrum or whatever. I totally swear I don’t do the hard stuff anymore, like me and Skinny Pete really learned a lot from that NA thing, but…” Badger trailed off, and Jesse shook his head.

“It’s fine.” Jesse said. The compulsion to use was still there, itching under his skin, but the urgency had left him a long time ago. He had promised himself that if ever got out of that hellhole, he would never use again, but he had been around drugs without using so long he thought he would be able to resist if given the chance. Plus, weed didn’t really count anyway.

After a predictably long amount of time spent packing the car and going back in the house for things they had forgotten, the three of them stood in front of Badger’s house, ready to set out. The sun was just a hint on the horizon, ready to lighten the sky within the next couple minutes.

Jesse stood apart from Badger and Skinny Pete at the end of the driveway, looking out at Albuquerque for the last time. It was finally hitting him that he would never see this place again. He had grown up here and only left the state a handful of times, but now he was leaving it behind for good. The knowledge hit him distantly, with no real emotional undercurrent to leaving his home. He was numb to this desert now. After living somewhere for years, good memories pile up, but now he was only left with the bad memories, drowning out any nostalgia he had left. Jesse leaned his head back and breathed in the musty air for the last time, feeling decided. This was his first real decision since he had escaped, and he felt in his bones it was the right one.

Jesse walked back over to Badger and Skinny Pete, who were shifting on their feet, clearly anxious to get going. Badger threw his car keys into the air, and they spun and glinted in the early light.

“Ready to go?” He asked Jesse, looking uncomfortable in the way he did when the situation called for a mature reaction. Both he and Skinny Pete looked like they knew they should probably say something for the occasion, but instead they just kind of cleared their throats and shifted from foot to foot.

Jesse nodded. They were starting to get used to him not saying very much until he surprised Badger and held out his hand for the keys. “Let me drive?” He asked, sounding a lot more decisive about this than he had been about anything in the past few days.

Badger didn’t even consider refusing, just dropped the keys into Jesse’s hand. “Sure, man.”

There was a swift but decisive battle over shotgun and Badger slid into the passenger seat while Skinny Pete got into the back, preparing himself for the crucial role of backseat driver and backseat radio operator. Jesse started up the car and pulled out of Badger’s driveway, heading for the highway leading out of Albuquerque.

Badger and Skinny Pete quickly got into an argument over which CD they were going to play first. Badger was adamant that they play some club music to get in the mood, but Skinny Pete pushed old-school rock so hard in honor of their road trip that he eventually won the argument, leaning up in the front seat to slide the CD into the ancient player. Their unnatural restraint could only be held up for so long, and they quickly degenerated into their happy-go-lucky selves.

Jesse didn’t mind. He opened his window and felt the already warm air push his hair back. Badger and Skinny Pete’s arguing made a nice background to the drive. He found it comforting, almost like the old days when the biggest problem they had to solve was how they were going to sneak out of class to avoid quizzes they hadn’t studied for. He didn’t feel the urge to join in, but it was nice to listen.

As they reached the highway, the sun was finally coming up, lighting up the desert around them with golden light. Jesse watched the houses and buildings of the suburbs slowly fall away beside the road before they broke away from Albuquerque and drove across the desert, the empty landscape stretching away as far as he could see, hazy mountains rising up in the far distance. With the combination of Badger and Skinny Pete’s terrible singing, the bright sun rising above him, and above all, his foot on the gas pedal, Jesse felt a rush of something that he almost didn’t recognize.

For the first time after breaking down the gate of the compound, Jesse felt hope, a delicate springing in his chest. It was tempered by his scars, the uncertainty of where they were going and about a hundred other things weighing him down, but it was still there.

* * *

 

It was midafternoon and they had crossed through most of New Mexico and crossed over into Colorado. Badger and Skinny Pete had switched places, and Badger was now asleep in the backseat while Skinny Pete listlessly flipped through radio stations in search of something he would listen to.

The wide open desert had mostly dropped behind them, leading them into green and the mountains. Jesse was glad to see the desert fall behind them. He hoped he never had to see another grain of sand in his life.

After a long and fruitless search, Skinny Pete finally gave up on finding a radio station and turned to Jesse.

“So, where are we going anyway?” Skinny asked.

Jesse didn’t answer right away, looking at the mountains off to the side. When leaving Albuquerque, he had driven north instinctively, without considering it. The more he thought about it, the more right north felt. He had had enough of the heat and the desert. He thought about how he used to watch Ice Road Truckers on the History Channel, about the cold, open spaces of Alaska. Back before all this, Alaska had been the plan and it still felt right.

“Alaska,” He said, the word fitting in his mouth.

Skinny frowned. “The fuck is in Alaska?”

Jesse shrugged. “Nothing. Snow.”

“Sounds awful, but whatever. What are Alaskan chicks like, anyway?”

Badger sat up from the back seat, apparently having been awake for awhile. “I bet they’re hot under those parkas.”

“I bet they’re cold, dumbass! Besides, people don’t wear parkas and shit. That’s for, like, when you go to the North Pole.” Skinny rolled his eyes.

Badger shook his head. “Uh, how far is Alaska from the North Pole? Like, a couple hundred miles or something. That’s where they get the sled dogs from.”

“They don’t ride sled dogs all the way from Alaska to the North Pole, bro. That’s just, like, impractical.” Skinny said, sounding sure of the fact.

“They probably leave from Greenland. Or Inuit villages.” Jesse broke in unexpectedly. Badger and Skinny looked surprised he was joining the conversation.

“How the hell would you know that?” Badger asked.

Jesse shrugged. “History Channel.”

The sun was setting as they drove through northern Colorado. Badger and Skinny were getting hungry and Jesse was getting tired of driving for so long, so they pulled off in the next small town they passed. The three of them got out of the car and stretched. The euphoria from leaving Albuquerque was wearing off, and all the practical concerns of how to get to Alaska were coming to the forefront of their minds.

Jesse eyed a clothing store on the corner of this shopping district and reached into his pocket for some of the cash he still had left over.

“I’m going to go buy some clothes that actually fit me. I can meet you guys in that bar over there when I’m done.” Jesse said. Badger and Skinny nodded, and Jesse walked over to the store. Once the two of them were out of sight, he leaned up against the wall and rubbed his temples. He hadn’t been entirely truthful with the two of them about his current state of mind.

Jesse was operating on a very thin veneer of calm. He could feel the trauma bubbling right under his skin, but he was trying to force it down. He knew if he started truly thinking about any of it, he wouldn’t be able to keep moving, and right now that was the most important thing. Moving. Not stopping. Not thinking.

Jesse walked into the store, eyeing the store clerk with a certain amount of apprehension, but the man just glanced up at him from a paperback and then turned back to his book. The store was set to close within the hour and there were no other customers. Jesse walked up and down the aisles, staring at the clothes in front of him. There were so many options in front of him, he felt paralyzed, unable to choose anything. He hadn’t had to make a decision in months, and now he was unsure whether he even could.

After staring at the jean display for a solid minute, he just grabbed three pairs of the closest ones on hand, grabbing shirts as he went back to the changing rooms. None of the clothes in this store were anything like what he used to wear, and Jesse thought that once upon a time he would have been bothered by that.

He threw the pile of clothes he had picked up onto the bench and closed the door behind him. Turning around, he was confronted with his thin, sleep-deprived face. There were mirrors lining three walls, and it was impossible to look anywhere without seeing himself. Jesse was frozen for a moment, looking at himself. He hardly recognized himself, scars and marks where there wasn’t anything before. He looked hardened now in the way that he used to aspire to, all sharp lines and marks of conflict. His eyes were different, though. They were quiet, carrying the memories of what happened to him better than the scars on his body ever could. They held all the softness that Jack’s gang tried to beat out of him, as well as a hurt that he supposed was here to stay.

Tearing himself out of his reverie, Jesse shrugged out of the ill-fitting clothes he had borrowed from Badger, trying on the clothes he had grabbed. To his slight embarrassment, he was much thinner than he used to be, but he eventually found a small collection of clothes that fit him now. He dropped Badger’s clothes in the trash can on his way back to the front, getting a strange look from the clerk.

“Heading somewhere in a hurry?” The man asked, and Jesse’s stomach muscles clenched, wondering if that was an innocent comment or a mark of suspicion.

“My suitcase got stolen. I’m moving to Chicago.” Jesse said, trying to act casual.

The clerk nodded, ringing up the last of the items. “Long way to go.”

“Yeah. I know.” Jesse said. He stood there for the next couple minutes while the clerk made his way with maddening slowness through all the tags. He was starting to get twitchy, every half-glance up to him from the clerk surely a sign that he knew something, that he would call someone, and this escape attempt would all be for naught. Jesse clenched his fist and tried to calm his heartbeat.

Eventually, Jesse’s worrying was unfounded, and he left the store with two bags full of new clothes. He dropped them in the back of Badger’s car before heading into the bar he had pointed out.

As soon as Jesse entered, he was accosted with the thick smell of cigarette smoke and spilled beer. He looked around all the dimly-lit tables before spotting Badger and Skinny Pete at the other end, already digging into burgers they had ordered.

Jesse dropped down beside them, and Skinny spotted Jesse’s new clothes. “Nice threads, bro. You look like, a camp counselor or a mountain hiker or something.”

Badger looked around for the waitress. “You want a burger? I’ll get the waitress, dude.”

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day. You should eat something.” Badger said.

Jesse waved it off. “I’ll just eat some of your fries, it’s fine.” Badger looked at him in worry but didn’t try and press the point.

Since they didn’t have anything to do that night, they stayed in the bar for a while, wasting time until it was late enough to get motel rooms and sleep. As the night went on, the bar filled up with more people looking to drink, until it was pretty packed. Jesse was watching the people file in when a group of loud, rowdy men pushed their way in and took a table near the three of them.

Jesse didn’t pay them much attention until one of them mentioned his cousin in Kentucky calling about trouble he was having with his meth lab explosion. Jesse whipped his head around to stare at them, his mouth going dry. There were five of them, and each of them looked like they could have easily murdered someone in the past week. They continued talking, and it became obvious from the underhanded way they were speaking that at least two of them were drug dealers.

Jesse’s muscles were tightening up, and he was starting to feel a little dizzy. He looked at the neck of the one sitting the closest and thought he saw the top half of a swastika poking out of his shirt. Jesse’s breathing sped up, and he started to hyperventilate. He saw one of them glance his way, and he quickly tore his gaze away, stumbling to his feet.

“I feel sick,” He mumbled to Badger and Skinny Pete before stumbling away from their table and heading to the door. He could feel a panic attack coming on, and he knew he had to get into the fresh air before this went too far.

Jesse shoved the door open, walking around to the side of the building and breathing in great gulps of air, clenching his eyes shut and trying to calm down. With a lurch, he doubled over and vomited onto the pavement. Jesse felt a little more grounded after that, and wiped his mouth off and leaned against the wall, willing his heartbeat to slow.

He heard the door to the bar fall open, spilling chattering voices and light into the parking lot for a moment before it closed. Somebody walked around the corner and Jesse straightened up, trying to pretend he hadn’t just been having a panic attack.

It was one of the men from the table, the youngest, around Jesse’s age. He raised an eyebrow and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before speaking. “Big lunch?”

“Fuck off.” Jesse snarled, trying to walk around him back to the bar.

The guy turned and called after him. “I know what you need.”

Jesse gave him a look of contempt. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

The guy smirked and slipped a hand into his pocket. “Takes a junkie to know a junkie. It’ll get you feeling better in five minutes.”

Jesse’s gaze dropped to the small bag of white crystals the guy held in his grip. He had a smile on his face, like he had Jesse pegged, that he knew he’d buy it off him.

Jesse didn’t even think before reeling back and punching the guy in the nose. He yelled and grabbed his nose, blood spurting everywhere. Jesse ran forward and kicked him, dropping the guy to the ground. “Fuck you!” He screamed, seeing Todd’s face on the guy on the ground.

Those were all the words he could get out, but before their fight could go further, the door burst open and a bunch of people ran out into the parking lot. Badger and Skinny Pete were there as well as the owner of the bar.

The bartender yelled at him to get off his property before he called the police, and Jesse’s face screwed up in anger, spitting on the guy before walking away, Badger and Skinny jogging after him to catch up. Jesse didn’t say anything, just kicked the wheel of one of the cars in frustration and screamed.

They didn’t want to be chased by the guy’s friends, so they got into the car and left town immediately, driving three towns over before stopping again and renting a motel room. There were only two beds, but Jesse didn’t sleep, sitting up in the chair and watching out the window.

Badger tried to get him to take one of the beds, but Jesse shook his head, staying up all night. He still hadn’t said a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two steps forward, three steps back, isn't that always the way. There's no flashback in this chapter because Jesse is finally making forward progress, but things will only get worse before they can get better. Look forward to some more old faces in the next chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Badger rolled over and awoke, overcast light spilling in through the cheap motel curtains. Jesse was sitting at the tacky table in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest and drinking a coffee. There were two other cups and two donuts in a bag.

He looked over when Badger woke up. His eyes were rimmed red like he hadn’t slept, and there was a look in his eyes that Badger didn’t like. He was still, but that didn’t mean he was calm. His knuckles were still busted from punching the guy from last night.

Once both Badger and Skinny Pete were awake, Jesse inclined his head toward the door. “We should go. We have a long way to go.

Two days later and halfway across Montana, Badger and Skinny Pete were involved in a silent argument over who was going to talk to Jesse. After the first day, the three of them had taken turns driving. Currently, Skinny Pete was driving, one arm hanging out the window and the other loosely holding onto the wheel. Jesse was stretched out across the backseat, head resting on the window.

Badger glanced in the mirror, hoping to see his eyes closed, but instead Jesse was far away, gazing out at the mountains far off in the distance. He turned to Skinny and punched him in the arm, wiggling his eyebrows as if that would convey his meaning without words.

Skinny Pete frowned. “I’m driving, dude.”

“It’s the driver’s job to talk.” Badger said, fairly desperately.

Skinny glanced over at him. “That’s not a thing, bro. You just don’t want to do it.”

After a brief but intense battle of wills, Badger finally consented and cleared his throat faux-casually. “Hey Jesse, how you feeling?”

Jesse took a few seconds to return from whatever daze he was caught in. His eyes flicked slowly over to Badger. He looked weary. “I’m fine. You don’t really have to keep asking that.”

Badger flicked his eyes toward Skinny Pete before continuing. “It’s just that, I don’t think you’ve slept at all for three nights now, and not to sound like a dick, but you kind of look a little… rank.”

The truth was that Jesse looked terrible. Whatever short-lived burst of hope had overcome him when they left Albuquerque was quickly extinguished. Maybe it was the monotony of the drive, maybe it was the fight back in Colorado. Whatever it was, Jesse wasn’t sleeping and it showed. His skin was pale and feverish, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Jesse frowned, looking back out the window. “I don’t need you to worry about me.” He snapped, trying to end the conversation. Badger took the hint and turned back around. After a while, he found a passable radio station and they drove across the endless plains they had been traveling through for hundreds of miles.

Jesse pressed his feverish forehead against the cool glass, enjoying the thrumming of the car engine buzzing through his skin. He knew he was being unfair in snapping at Badger, but he was starting to feel like he had those awful few weeks before the showdown in the desert. He was high-strung, every minor inconvenience heightening the feathery feeling of panic in his chest. He felt like something was going very wrong, very soon. He scratched his arm where the long-healed punctures from Jane’s heroin used to be. He was itchy. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted a hit. He wanted to sleep.

The thing about insomnia was that after a while, the days start to blend together, and Jesse wasn’t even sure he could remember the last time he slept, didn’t know whether he caught small microseconds of sleep between his eyelids when he blinked.

Badger and Skinny Pete were arguing about directions in the front. Jesse rubbed his face, only half-listening.

“We have to keep going through Billings, that’s the best way north to the border.” A third voice came from beside Jesse in the backseat. Jesse blinked and looked over. Combo was sprawled in his seat, chugging a Mountain Dew and looking supremely uninterested in the proceedings.

The two in the front seat had reached the same conclusion as Combo and Skinny made the right turn off the freeway, following the signs for Billings. Combo shrugged. “See? Even when I’m dead, I’m still a better navigator than any of you idiots.”

Jesse stared, a dreamlike feeling drifting around him as he watched his dead friend drink a Mountain Dew, with no pomp and circumstance he felt should follow seeing hallucinatory apparitions. Badger and Skinny Pete were arguing over the radio again, and Combo swallowed a bubble of air.

Looking right at Jesse, he held up a finger, screwed his face up in concentration, and then let out a truly impressive belch and then grinned. Jesse still hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know what the proper greeting was for a friend he got killed. He wondered if Combo was an angel. He wondered if he believed in angels.

After a moment, Jesse put his finger on what the strangest aspect of this was, and it wasn’t the dead boy sharing the backseat. The weirdest thing was that it all felt normal. Jesse felt that this was just another day trip out of Albuquerque with his three closest friends, Badger and Skinny arguing and Combo taking up the back with his calm, unflappable presence. It felt like old times. There was a lump in Jesse’s throat and he swallowed it.

After another half hour, they pulled over at a gas station for gas and snacks. Badger pulled out a handful of cash for food and Skinny ran off for the bathroom. Combo and Jesse were left alone in the backseat. Jesse was still staring.

“So…” Jesse began, uncertain.

“So,” Combo continued, pretty cheerful for a dead guy.

“Am I hallucinating?” Jesse asked.

Combo shrugged. “Probably. I think if otherworldly forces existed, you’d have known about them by now.”

Jesse thought about the dozens of things he could ask Combo, all the things he had wanted to say. He finally settled on, “What was it like? To die, I mean.” A pause before his next admission. “I always thought it would be peaceful. Or like a relief.”

Combo considered for a moment, swirling the rest of the Mountain Dew around the bottle.  “It was fast, and scary. And it hurt.”

Jesse watched the sunlight stream through the bottle, leaving mottled shadows on the floor. “Are you mad at me?” He asked, wondering if it still mattered. After everything he had left in his wake, he didn’t know if Combo’s death was still a weight he took with him. Combo didn’t say anything for a moment, and Jesse found that he cared what Combo thought.  Combo was his oldest friend. When Combo died, that had felt like the first domino from what his life had been to what it had become.

“No,” Combo finally said, following Jesse’s eyes to the dancing light on the floor. “It was my street corner, I was on board with it. Not your fault.”

“I tried to poison them. The guys who ordered it.” Jesse blurted out, suddenly needing Combo to know that he did something, that he had cared.

“Did it do any good?” Combo asked.

“No,” Jesse was forced to admit.

“Well, then,” Combo shrugged. Neither of them said anything after that, but it was a comfortable silence, the silence between two people who had known each other for so long they had said all there really was to say.

The sight of Badger and Skinny Pete coming back across the parking lot reminded Jesse of the fleeting nature of this encounter. All of a sudden, a question occurred to Jesse. He didn’t know if Combo was the best person to answer, but he asked anyway.

“Do you think I can get better?” He asked.

Combo looked at him for a long moment. Jesse noted with a sick jolt blood seeping through his shirt and then it was gone right as it appeared. “I don’t know.” Combo finally answered.

Badger and Skinny Pete got back in and handed snacks back to Jesse. Of course they couldn’t see Combo, but just for one brief moment it seemed like the four of them were sharing this space, just as they always had and they always would. That nothing would ever change.

And, just like that, Combo blinked out of existence and Jesse remembered why he was driving across the country with a fake ID. Jesse looked down at the snacks in his hands. They were Combos. The significance wasn’t lost on any of them.

* * *

 

Jesse was beginning to think that Combo had been an isolated incident as they finished the long drive through Montana. They started to see signs leading the way to the Canadian border and despite Badger’s misgivings, Jesse switched places at the wheel.

As Jesse and Skinny Pete switched places, Jesse saw the flash of curly brown hair whip across his vision. He ignored it, getting into the car and wrapping his hands around the wheel. He wondered if he was losing his mind, but thought that if he was going to lose his mind he would have in Jack’s compound. He knew he should probably be worried about this new development, but all he felt was flat.

With 20 miles left to go until the border, Jesse pulled to the side of the road. He pulled his newly-minted fake passport out of the glove box and held it in his hand. He wondered if it would work. He hoped it did. At the thought of being caught and going to prison, a nervous tension worked its way up his throat. He swallowed and tried to keep a level head.

Jesse slowed down as they joined the queue at the border. As they inched forward slowly, his fingers drummed nervously against the dashboard. Even Badger and Skinny Pete were uncharacteristically quiet. They all knew this was the ultimate test. If they could get past this checkpoint, they would be likely be free and clear. If not, this was the end of the line.

The guard at the post waved them up, and Jesse drew level with the booth. The guard held out his hand. “Passports?”

Jesse handed them over, his hand shaking a little. He hoped the guard didn’t notice. The guard flipped each open, glancing at the three of them in the car. He passed over Badger and Skinny Pete’s and lingered on Jesse’s. His heart was in his throat.

“Reason for visiting Canada?” The guard asked dispassionately.

Jesse cleared his throat. “Just passing through. We’re driving to Alaska.” He wondered whether he should add more details, whether that would seem more or less suspicious.

The guard stamped their passports and handed them back, raising the gate for them to drive through. “Have a nice visit.” He said.

Jesse was shocked at how easy it had been, and moved the car back out onto the Canadian highway. There was some patchy snow drifting across the highway. It would be a few hours until they got far enough north for the permanent snow to make its appearance.

The sun was already setting by then and Badger suggested making a stop in one of the nearby towns for the night, but Jesse was running on adrenaline and wanted to keep going. He insisted on going on and pretty soon Badger and Skinny Pete were asleep.

Jesse kept driving through the night. The insomnia was bringing his nerves back. He had thought he had moved past his nervous, panicky state but sleep deprivation was interfering with his logical side. He knew that the sporadic cars they passed on the road were not keeping an eye on him, that if they had been successful, nobody in the world knew where they were, but that constant reassurance didn’t stop him from glancing in repressed panic at every shape in the rearview mirror.

Eventually, his shaking hands were worrying him enough to pull over. Badger and Skinny Pete were long asleep, and so Jesse got out of the car. He had parked on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. There were no dwellings, no streetlights, or any sign of habitation in any direction.

Jesse ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his nerves. When he opened his eyes again, he realized how bright the stars above him were. Without the interference of light pollution, the full constellations wheeled above his head.

Trying not to cause any movement, Jesse clambered onto the hood of the car, stretching out to look up at the sky. During the long nights in Jack’s compound, Jesse had looked up at the stars and took small comfort in the thought of how small and insignificant he was to the universe. Instead of depressing him, the thought of his own insignificance helped Jesse separate himself from his body. Any kind of distraction was a welcome one.

The cold night air started to get to him, and Jesse pulled his knees up to his chin, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself. Jesse was suddenly aware of the sensation of curly hair brushing against the side of his face. He wasn’t at all surprised to see Andrea sitting next to him when he turned his head.

Andrea brushed her hair back from her face, such a familiar movement it brought a lump to Jesse’s throat. She smiled at him, but it was small and sad, tempered by their last memory together.

Jesse opened his mouth, intending to apologize, to cry, to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness for what he had done. Nothing came out, the words stuck in his throat. Andrea shook her head and brought a hand out to cup his face.

“Don’t say anything, Jesse. It’ll hurt too much. Let’s just watch the stars.” At her familiar voice, Jesse was boneless, and he slid down to rest against her, Andrea putting her arms around him, smoothing his hair away from his clammy forehead.

There were a few long moments of silence, the two of them together against the vast expanse of the horizon and its stars. It helped to be pressed against a familiar presence, even if she wasn’t real.

“I saw Brock.” Jesse said, his voice a little muffled against Andrea’s shoulder.

“I know.” Andrea said, not looking at him.

“He’s safe. I know he misses you.” Jesse said.

Andrea stopped moving for a long moment. Jesse looked up at her. The stars up above all seemed to have pooled in her eyes.

“I miss you.” Jesse continued. Andrea’s hands trailed through his hair again. “I know I don’t have the right to miss you. If I had just stayed away from you, then maybe… Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did.”

“Maybe.” Jesse noticed that although she was solid, Andrea’s hands were cold. “But if it wasn’t for you, me and Brock would still have been living in the neighborhood where Tomas died. Maybe the same thing would have happened, just for a different reason.”

“I don’t know if I should be angry for what happened to you, or whether I deserve the blame.” Jesse murmured.

“I don’t know if it’s that simple.” Andrea answered. “Maybe the best thing you can do is take your guilt, pack it away, and remember the good times. We had some good times together, didn’t we?”

Jesse sat up, turning towards Andrea on the hood.  “We did.” He bit his lip, looking up at the nearest constellation before continuing. “You know, I’ve, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I still don’t know whether I loved you, or whether I loved being with you.”

“You’re with me now,” was Andrea’s only answer. They shared a few more moments under the starry sky. It was quiet and peaceful and if it weren’t for the cold seeping into his bones, Jesse might have started to doze off.

Andrea disappeared in a brush of fingers and wave of her curly hair. Jesse was left alone on the car. Jesse realized how dangerous it was to be outside for so long in this kind of weather and shook out his stiff legs to get back into the car, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and curling up in the seat. He dozed but didn’t sleep. This proved to be his last period of rest before the insomnia truly began to catch up with him. As anyone could say, fevers had to rise and hurt before they could begin to fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid to say Combo and Andrea are probably two of the most pleasant visitors Jesse will get before this is all over.


	7. Chapter 7

They were sitting in a diner picking at their food. Badger and Skinny Pete kept trying to pull Jesse into conversation on some topic or other, but Jesse was almost completely unresponsive. He was staring at his untouched plate of eggs and hash browns. He had his hands wrapped around a coffee cup. His knuckles were white. Every time he pulled his hands away from the cup they started to shake it sloshed the coffee around. He couldn’t pick the cup up for fear of splashing it all over the table.

Ingesting more caffeine in his current state of sleep deprivation could only do more harm than good, but Jesse was beyond listening to the advice of others. Without warning, he lurched up from his seat and went towards the bathroom. He thought he was going to vomit, but when he made it to the sink nothing came up. Jesse choked out a sob and splashed water on his face. There was a buzzing unreality to his limbs and he couldn’t think clearly.

When Jesse lifted his eyes Gale was standing at his shoulder in the mirror. There was a gunshot wound in his forehead and he was opening and closing his mouth like he was gasping for breath. “You don’t have to do this,” He said, lips trembling.

Jesse shouted hoarsely and spun around. Gale was still there. Jesse could feel Gale’s breath on his face. Jesse realized he was holding a gun pointed at Gale’s head. Gale’s eyes were wide and afraid. “You don’t have to do this,” Gale repeated. Jesse was gasping, his shaking hand unable to stop from turning off the safety. “You don’t have to do this,” Gale said over and over, his voice maintaining the same inflection of confused fear every time.

Jesse was trembling all over by now. “I didn’t want to do it.” He whispered.

A horribly familiar voice was right next to his ear. “Do it, Jesse! _Do it!_ ”

Jesse screamed and turned around, his elbow smashing into the bathroom mirror, but this time there wasn’t anybody standing there. The door to the bathroom opened and Skinny Pete came in, looking solemnly at the smashed mirror behind him.

“Dude, are you okay?” He asked quietly. Jesse was breathing hard and he had to lean against the sink to stay vertical.

“I have to get out of here. Get me out of here. Please.” Jesse gasped. Skinny nodded, ushering him out of the bathroom and out of the diner as one or two confused patrons glanced toward the back of the restaurant at the commotion.

Badger was already outside, and they all piled into the car. Jesse looked out the window and saw Gale standing five feet from the car, blood streaming down his face. He was mouthing something but Jesse screwed his eyes closed until they drove away.

It only got worse after that. They barely made it fifty miles before Jesse was babbling to someone in the backseat, telling them he was sorry, that he was so sorry.

Skinny Pete turned around. “Who are you talking to?” He asked in desperation, but Jesse didn’t even hear him, eyes trained on some invisible presence right next to him.

Badger pulled off at the nearest motel, getting a room and half-dragging Jesse into the room. Jesse wasn’t really aware of what was going on, and didn’t notice when his two friends left the room to discuss what to do in hushed voices outside.

Jesse lay on top of the bedcovers, tossing and turning. The worst headache he could ever remember having was interrupting higher brain functions.

Jesse sat up all of a sudden convinced Gale was in the room with him. He whipped his head from side to side, but he was alone. There was a touch of fingers at the crook of his arm, and Jane was whispering in his ear. “I have something that will help you feel better.”

Jesse turned to look at her, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Jane,” he croaked. Her fingers were ghosting over his arm, searching for a vein to tie off. “Don’t. I can’t.”

She looked at him with a sardonic expression that was so familiar it felt like a punch to the gut. “It won’t hurt anymore. I promise.”

Jesse reached out and stilled Jane’s hands. “It killed you. It almost killed me.”

Jane raised her eyebrows and started to pull away. “Look, I didn’t really come here to be judged by a drug dealer, okay?”

Jesse reached after her. “No, wait. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me again. Can you just, stay for a minute?”

“Being clingy is so not attractive.” Jane said, but her voice was soft, like she didn’t mean it, and she came closer instead of leaving.

Jesse reached down tentatively and interlaced their fingers. Jane squeezed his hand. Jane’s hand felt how she always was: all sharp edges designed to push people away. Jesse and Jane had fallen into each other’s orbits at precisely the wrong time, their self-destructive habits fitting together and fueling each other’s.

“You look like shit, man.” Jane said, her free hand combing Jesse’s hair back. “You should really get some rest or something.”

“And when’s the last time _you_ ever listened to anyone’s advice?” Jesse shot back, falling back into old patterns.

Jane smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Probably never.” She murmured. “How is my dad?”

Jesse startled, realizing that he had no idea.  “I… I don’t know. I went into rehab almost directly after, and by the time I got out…” _I was too sunk in my own misery to seek out someone else’s_ was Jesse’s unfinished  sentence, but Jane seemed to understand.

Jesse could feel moisture on his cheeks, and realized he was crying again. Jane leaned forward so they were sitting cross-legged across from each other, foreheads leaning in to touch, mirror images. “What’s wrong?” She asked, and Jesse choked on a sob.

“I thought… I thought I could move on from you. I thought I could come to terms with what happened when I thought it was just bad luck or fate or whatever.” Jesse was whispering, his breath mingling with Jane’s. She didn’t smell like anything. It seemed his hallucinations didn’t involve all five senses. “We, we talked a lot in rehab about the things you couldn’t change, about accepting stuff that happened, and like, I thought a lot of it was bullshit, you know…”

Jane smiled and stilled his words temporarily with a chaste kiss. “Atta boy. Fight the system.”

Jesse half-laughed, half-sobbed. “But when it came to you, that much at least didn’t seem to be anyone’s fault. You died, and I’d miss you every day, but I guess we sort of knew what we were getting into. It took me months and months, but I finally got to a place where it didn’t kill me to think about you.”

“But it wasn’t bad luck.” Jane said, a trace of her familiar acerbity creeping into her voice. “I knew that crusty old schoolteacher was bad luck the first time I saw him.”

Jesse closed his eyes at the mention of Mr. White. “But that all changed when he- when he told me what he did. The thing is, you didn’t die because of dumb luck. You died because he stood there and watched it happen and didn’t do a fucking thing to stop it. How am I supposed to come to terms with that, Jane? How do I move past you? I don’t have like, the universe or whatever to blame for this. He watched you die and now he’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Jane was shaking her head. “I don’t know. I think this is the pitfall of talking to hallucinations. I only know what you know.”

Jesse was crumpling, losing composure quickly. “I loved you so much. I just loved you _so_ much.” Jesse’s voice broke, tears falling freely now. “I don’t care if we were bad for each other or if we would have been better off if we’d never met each other. I just wanted one more day with you, one more minute. I loved you, and I think you loved me too.”

“I did. I do.” Jane said softly, cradling Jesse’s face in her hands.

“What am I supposed to do now? How can I ever move on if everything reminds me of you? Or something awful? Everything reminds me of something else, I can’t turn my head off.”

Jane had no words left. She pulled Jesse down next to her, their fingers still intertwined. Jesse was curled in on himself and Jane was behind him, an unintentional mirror of the night she died. Jesse was shivering and Jane pulled him closer.

“I don’t want to be alone again.” Jesse whimpered. “I’ve been alone for so long.”

Jane shook her head. “You know I can’t stay. There are others you still have to see.”

“I don’t want to see them.” Jesse barked out, his voice cracking.

Jane leaned over to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. “I’ll see you one day in New Zealand. Meet me there. It’ll be everything we wanted it to be.”

Jane rolled over like she was falling away from him and she was gone. Jesse meant to turn over after her but realized that he couldn’t see clearly, the shivering and cramping from the fever reaching a peak. He tried to stand up, but the effort proved too much, and he collapsed back on the bed and grayed out.

Badger and Skinny Pete came back in to the room to see Jesse on the bed, twitching and moaning. Skinny Pete rushed forward and put a hand on Jesse’s forehead. It was burning up. “Jesus Christ, dude. We have to take him to a hospital or something.”

Badger paced back and forth, his boots leaving dirt all over the cheap carpet. “What if they find out who he is, though? This seems like a high-risk situation.”

At that moment, Jesse turned his head and started babbling apologies to someone neither of them could see. “He’s gonna fucking die on us, Badger.” Skinny Pete said desperately.

This seemed to convince Badger, and he leaned down and picked Jesse up. He was expecting to have trouble, but Jesse was surprisingly light. He never used to be. Skinny Pete held the door for him and they walked out into the parking lot, Badger laying Jesse down in the backseat and Skinny taking the wheel. They drove to the nearest hospital and lingered outside of the receiving bay.

Before they could change their minds, and pushed on by Jesse’s increasingly incoherent ramblings from the backseat, Skinny ran out to get a wheelchair and they dropped him in it, his head flopping to the side and wheeling him in.

It was a fairly slow day, and with one look at Jesse’s condition, the nurses wheeled him in right away, handing off a clipboard full of paperwork for Badger and Skinny Pete to fill out. The nurses and doctor rushed around Jesse’s bed, asking quick questions and taking his temperature and blood pressure.

There was a shaky moment where Badger forgot Jesse’s fake name and had to surreptitiously pull out his ID and copy it onto the form. When the nurse asked after health insurance, Badger nervously said he had left the card back at their hotel and he could provide that information later. To her credit, the nurse knew he was lying, but she simply nodded and allowed Jesse to be accepted into the hospital anyway.

It didn’t take long for the doctors to deduce that Jesse’s condition resulted from a lack of rest, poor diet, and prolonged stress leading to a drastically reduced immune response and subsequent high fever. They did what they could for him, but only time would tell how soon he could recover. After the first two hours, the nurses gently rushed Badger and Skinny Pete out of the room at the end of visiting hours. They protested, but couldn’t really do anything without bringing unnecessary attention to Jesse. So they left.

The two of them drove around the blocks around the hospital, debating eating at one of the restaurants around but ultimately ending up in the parking lot of a liquor store, shotgunning six packs of beer like always. The colder weather eventually drove them into the heated car, where they watched the street and tried to find a decent radio station.

Badger turned around in his seat, leaning all the way back to pull out his bag of weed. With cold fingers he rolled up a joint for him and Skinny Pete, lighting it up and taking a long-overdue drag. He leaned his head back and sighed.

“God, dude, it’s been like a week since I’ve had my last joint. It felt like forever. I felt kinda bad lighting up around Jesse, you know, so I tried to not do it around him, but it’s been torture. Like, cruel and unusual punishment or whatever.” Badger said seriously, watching the snowflakes drift across the windshield.

Skinny snatched the joint out of Badger’s fingers and took his turn. “I’ve been doing it in the bathroom when we stop at gas stations, bro. Like high school all over again.”

Badger was overtaken by a fit of the giggles. “Dude, dude, remember that one time when we were smoking between classes and Mr. Rosenfeld walked in right as we lit up? You had to stand there for like five minutes with a joint behind your back and trying to act cool. He totally knew, dude.”

Skinny Pete breathed out smoke and shook his head. “No way, bro! I was totally getting away with it. I was like, totally convincing.”

“You were not.” Badger laughed.

Skinny stopped laughing and turned serious for a second. “What are we going to do if Jesse doesn’t get any better? What if he’s like, fucked up for life?”

Badger shook his head. “Being around people you know is, like, good for people, right?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Skinny asked, confused.

“I think Jesse’d be way worse off if he was alone, you think? We’re doing some good, I think.” Badger said.

Skinny shrugged, a little skeptical. “I don’t know, Badger. He’s like, getting worse every day.”

“Maybe Alaska will be better.” Badger said, tentative hope in his voice.

“Maybe.” Skinny said, although he didn’t sound like he believed it.

Back at the hospital, Jesse wasn’t showing any signs of improvement. For the past couple hours he had been completely unresponsive and nothing the doctors had done seemed to do any good. At one point, he regained lucidity long enough to realize he was in a hospital room. Apparently having no memory of the last couple hours, Jesse froze up, assuming the worst.

He sat up, pulling cords and IV lines out of his arms, a dizzy sickness sweeping over him with the movement. Jesse held on to the edge of the bed, slipping onto the ground and stumbling over to his pile of clothes on the dresser. He pulled his pants on, gasping and checking every second for a doctor or nurse to come walking in.

Jesse only made it halfway down the hall before someone noticed him. The nurse shouted for assistance and tried to put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“Hey, excuse me. You need to get back in bed. You’re feverish and delirious, you need bedrest.”

Jesse jumped at her touch and tried to push her away, but that only resulted in him being off balance. The nurse took the opening and grabbed his arm, another nurse grabbing his other side and they tried to march him back to the room. Jesse was so delirious he didn’t know what was happening and he bucked and shouted, trying to throw them off. In his weakened state, they didn’t even have to try very hard.

They finally got him back in the bed and tried to calm him down, but Jesse was far gone, and he fought them and kicked, trying to get out of the bed in desperation. He batted away their hands when they tried to put the IV back in his arm, and he was so insistent they were eventually forced to call for restraints just to keep him in the bed.

Jesse saw them coming and started panicking even more. He saw chain-link fences and corrugated walls. He felt like he was buried underground and his breath came in short bursts.

“No,” Jesse croaked desperately. “No, I told you everything you wanted to know. I told you everything I know, please.” As the nurses secured his hands and feet, Jesse’s head rolled back on the pillow and he grew limp.

“I told you the tape is in his house. I swear to God I’m not lying, just look! What else do you want from me?” Jesse’s cracked voice finally broke and tears began falling down his cheeks. The nurses in the room were very disturbed and they tried to comfort him, but to no avail. It was like Jesse couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

Once the IV was back in his arm, the nurses added a muscle relaxant to help calm him down, and Jesse quieted down but that didn’t seem to make him feel any better. He gazed sightlessly past the nurses to the wall, tears leaking out of his eyes every so often. Eventually, they had to let him be.

Jesse floated for a while in a blank haze until his vision solidified slowly into the dim hospital room. It was now the middle of the night and the soft beeping of the machines around him were the only other sound. Jesse tried to lift his hands but they were still held down by the hospital restraints. He tried to tamp down on the panic that rose fresh in his chest and he clamped his eyes shut and breathed in and out a few times.

When Jesse opened his eyes again, he wasn’t alone in the room. There was someone standing over his bed and he knew before he lifted his eyes who it would be.

Todd was looking at him with that maddeningly opaque smile of his and at the sight of Jesse’s fear his smile grew wider. “Hey, Jesse. It’s just like old times. I missed you, buddy.”

This was finally too much for Jesse and he fainted straight away. He felt like he was falling into a concrete cage buried underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's nice closure, and there's not-so-nice closure. It got kind of dark in this chapter, and it'll get a little more dark in the next chapter. Look for the long-expected appearance of Mr. White coming up soon. He was bound to show up sooner or later. (also sorry about this sort-of cliffhanger, but it seemed like as good a place as any to pause).


End file.
